


while I breathe, I hope

by Havanar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Dark Fantasy, Demons, Established Relationship, Fluff, Keith and Red's relationship is hella strong, Keith and Shiro are separated again, M/M, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Sharing a Bed, as many times as it takes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-06-16 01:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15426522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havanar/pseuds/Havanar
Summary: England, 1588.Tensions are rising between the Protestant and Catholic communities. Rumours say that Spain is assembling an Armada of impossible strength.Shiro and Keith are Apprentice Paladin's of Her Majesty's Kerberos Gate, the door between our realm and that of demons. Working under Lord Zarkon, High Guardian of the Gate, Shiro and Keith have always been together, always worked together to guard the gate. Until Shiro, accused with treason, disappears from Keith's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zenthisoror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenthisoror/gifts).



> Written as part of the Sheith Reverse Bang, so happy I was able to participate. Zen's idea was so amazing I'm so happy I was able to write it, please [check out her blog](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/) And check out the notes at the end of this chapter for her amazing art.
> 
> Yes it is a historical AU. No, the language does not reflect that, I left Shakespeare back in school, sorry!

“Go home, Demon.” Shiro says, his voice even and calm, but he’s gripping the Black Grimoire so tightly that his knuckles are going a deathly white. Almost the same shade as the feathers on the demon, the ones growing out of its body, like weeds that fight their way out from the cracks between stones. The Kerberos Gate lets out another groan from behind the demon and Keith takes a step closer to Shiro.

This demon was an intruder, uninvited to their realm, crossing The Gate without its permission.

Keith usually compares the Kerberos Gate to a warm fire. Impossibly bright at times, golds, whites, and oranges threading their way across the boundary and pure potential, its strength contained in the doorway of The Gate; for now. The strength to wipe the world out twice over, and the doorway to new realms, new powers. Keith could feel the thrumming in his veins from the first step he took across the threshold of The Gate Room. He can still feel it when he leaves, the echoes continue to run through him, like the aftermath of an adrenaline rush, and every time he re-enters the room the rush, the fear, and the exhilaration returns.

But today The Gate is angry. The welcoming golds and oranges have been replaced with deep, dark reds and purples, and the energy in The Gate is bulging, barely contained by the circles drawn around it years ago by Lord Zarkon himself. He can feel the pressure in the room building, the heat radiating from The Gate. It’s going to have to break somehow.

The demon lets out, what Keith can only assume is a laugh, in response to Shiro’s demand. It’s mouth doesn’t move, but Keith still hears the sound, still hears the taunt for what it is, like it’s echoing inside his own head.

“Why are you here?” Shiro asks.

The demon keeps its gaze fixed on the two of them. Keith feels it, even if the eye sockets are just empty crevices of bone hallowed out. There’s a feather growing from where the left eye should be and hundreds more are covering the demons body. ‘High corruption’. Keith thinks to himself. This one is full of power with no outlet, no direction. Shiro remains stock still next to him, ready to pounce.

This time the demon lets out a roar, something between mockery and aggression, the sound filling the room and drowning out the groans of The Gate for a split second. It’s head begins to turn, taking in The Gate and the room built around it - the room reinforced by hundreds of Paladins and their Grimoire’s before Shiro and Keith’s time - all to protect her Majesty. It’s indestructible.

“Keith, you need to go and get help.” Shiro murmurs, low, moving the Black Grimoire slowly so as not to draw attention from the demon.

“Where?” Keith hisses back. It’s four in the morning, this is supposed to be a dead shift, the time of night The Gate is at its least active. Every other Paladin not guarding Her Majesty or on a scouting mission will be asleep.

“I don’t know, get Zarkon.” Shiro says.

“And leave you alone with that thing?” Keith asks, keeping his eyes focused on the demon.

“We need reinforcements.” Shiro repeats, the order in his voice clear, just as the demon turns its head back to them.

Keith feels like he’s being pierced. He doesn’t know if the demon can even see him or if it’s even looking at him, but he holds its gaze until Shiro’s voice rings out, loud and clear across the room.

“I’ll ask one more time.” He says, his voice firm. “Why are you here?”

The demon doesn’t move. Keith is sure he feels the temperature of the room drop by a few degrees.

“What do you want?” Shiro tries instead. But bargaining won’t work, Keith is sure. This demon is corrupt, the most corrupt he’s ever seen in person. It doesn’t want for anything.  
  
“We can offer you gold, fame, a chance to use your powers on our side of The Kerberos Gate, a chance to become stronger. If we make a deal.” Shiro continues.

The Gate lets out what Keith can only describe as a breath, an exhale, from behind the demon before the sparks begin to increase, purples and reds flying from the source. Keith feels the energy increase. He’s not sure how. Like a magnet pulling metal closer, The Gate is exerting itself, trying to right this wrong by dragging everything back. It’s not strong enough to affect Shiro and Keith. Not yet anyway.

“Show me.” The demon finally says, it’s voice ringing out across the room, bouncing off the high stone ceiling. Keith and Shiro watch in horror as bone white teeth drop from their hiding place above the demons lips. There are black feathers sneaking their way through a few of them.

“If we show you, show you the strength of one of our own demons,” Shiro begins cautiously, “will you lend us your power?”

The demons feathers begin to ruffle, moving in a wave against each other as a shiver of excitement runs down it’s body.

“I want … to see … your … power.” It says, turning its head to take in The Gate Room. Probably noticing that Shiro and Keith are alone.

'Red.' Keith reaches out. She’s always there, like something you can see out of your peripheral vision. He feels her reassuring hum.

“If we show you the strength you can achieve here, will you let us bind you?” Shiro asks again, through gritted teeth. Keith can see the tension in his stance, feel it leaking out of his strained shoulders. The demon doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even move a muscle when it speaks again.

“Show me your strength…” It begins, lifting it’s arm in jerky movements, like the arm has a mind of its own, until it is pointing back through The Gate. “…in there.” It says, and its feathers begin to ruffle again.

'This isn’t working.' He feels Red’s agreement. Cutting a deal, offering something to this kind of demon isn’t going to work. It’s too corrupt, and it’s already leaking into their reality. They need to send it home.

Before the demon can make another movement, before its hollow eyes can take in another metre of The Gate Room, Keith pulls the Grimoire in front of him. He doesn’t even need to touch it, it just falls open in his hands, setting free Red’s full power.

“Keith!” Shiro hisses, but it’s too late.

Keith doesn’t even have to ask Red anymore. She just does, and within seconds orange flames are surrounding the demon, tightening until it lets out a harrowing scream.

Keith smirks. He and Red are on the same page then.

“Black!” Keith hears Shiro summon from next to him and in an instant Black’s tendrils are shooting out from Shiro’s Grimoire and into the demon, piercing through its body as it continues to shriek.

“I wasn’t done negotiating.” Shiro says between breaths as he directs Black’s power toward the demon.

“It said it wanted power.” Keith hisses back. “I’m showing it our power.”

He feels Shiro’s exhale of breath next to him, either exasperation or exertion, but Keith has other things to worry about. The demon’s feathers, what he can see of them between the orange and black, are beginning to ruffle again, flickering, back and forth, like someone tapping their fingers in irritation.

“Pull back.” Shiro hisses and both the black tendrils and the flames disappear just as purple sparks begin to flicker from the demons body, shooting high and fast.

The barrier goes up before Keith realises it, just in time for the purple and white lightning bolts to hit it, followed by a wail from the demon this time. Keith isn’t sure if it was Black or Red’s doing. He’s just thankful they reacted in time.

“We need to get it to leave,” Keith says. He can see the tension beginning to pull already, “before it rips apart our reality.”

Shiro glances at his ring, and Keith doesn’t even have to look at his own to know that it will reflect Shiro's; a faint grey band has appeared on the deep black. The demon’s power is already starting to affect them.

“Shiro, did Zarkon ever install that mirror in here?” He asks, keeping his eyes fixed on the demon in front of them. The barrier is still being hit by sparks. He’s not sure Red can keep it up much longer.

“He did. Behind us.” Shiro answers.

Of course he did. Shiro specialises in mirror magic, he’s the strongest Apprentice Paladin in years, of course Zarkon put a mirror in the summoning room. Just in case.

“Create an illusion of The Gate in the mirror.” Keith says, the plan is flowing too fast inside his head, like spilt water. It’s difficult to catch and put into words, and he’s not sure if it’s entirely his own, or if Red is giving a helping hand.

The barrier flickers and Shiro turns away, facing the mirror, Black’s Grimoire falling open in his hands. Keith keeps his gaze on the demon, the white sparks are falling on them harder, faster, and the barrier, the sheen of glistening air separating them is faltering more and more. The feathers ruffle, the demon is shaking with them in agitation.

So he lets the barrier drop.

He can feel Red’s dismay a split second before the burst of light, before he lifts his arm up to shield his eyes, his face, as the sparks rain down on him.

“Keith, are you okay?” Shiro asks, hearing the grunt of pain he lets out. His hand feels like it’s on fire, but the mark has already faded.

“I’ll show you my strength.” Keith says, projecting his voice, trying to copy the steady authority that he has heard leak from Shiro’s voice in the past.

The demon goes still, as if it’s been shocked into silence.

“I’ll show you,” he repeats, “inside.” He feels Shiro tense next to him, just as the demon’s feathers begin to flutter, distracting him, they’re moving faster than before as the demon’s mouth opens and a creek falls from it, it’s head moving in time with the feathers. It’s laughing.

“Show… me.” It croaks out, a thin arm reaching out, the demon moves impossibly fast, closing in on him in a blink. Its hand makes a tight grasp around his wrist, Red’s Grimoire falling to the floor and he feels his connection with Red falter. He feels Red call out to him, the panic in her voice growing until his own heart begins to constrict, the demon’s bone white hands grip on his wrist growing tighter and tighter. He tries to yank it away, but his strength is no match, tries to reach for Red’s Grimoire, but it’s too far, so he pulls back. Pulls back to the scabbard attached to his belt, pulling free his dagger. He pulls it up, hard and fast. It’s not strong enough to go through the demon’s hand, butit cries out in surprise anyway. Giving his wrist a harsh yank. Keith falls forward, his entire body landing within the circle, the dagger, a memento of his parents, clattering to the floor as thick black ichor from the demon's hand drips down his wrist, and the demon lets go. This time finding its grip in his hair. Keith makes a desperate attempt to reach out for Red and he can feel her reaching back, but the Grimoire is too far.

“You will join me.” It says, its voice filling the room.

“Keith.” Shiro says, his tone low, but the demon is pulling him further away, towards The Kerberos Gate, the real one, not the illusion in the mirror Shiro should have created by now. Keith can feel the pull of The Gate, he’s not sure if it’s pulling him or the demon closer, but it’s there, pulling him in. He reaches up, begins to push back at the hand, the ichor is thick, and cold, and he can feel it matting his hair. He tries to push, to pull, anything to get the demon to release him, but its hold is firm.

“The Gate, it calls to you as well.” The demon says, its voice like scratches of metal.

“No.” He responds, as the demon pulls him further. He can still feel Red. He can feel the panic rising in her as it rises inside him; it’s deafening. She can’t lose her Paladin. _Not again. Not again. Not again._ He can hear Shiro’s voice, somewhere in the background, but he can’t distinguish the words over Red's anguish. _Not again. Not again._ She can’t lose her Paladin.

And the demon stops pulling.

Everything stops.

The demon stops moving, Red stops panicking, so Keith begins to pull. He wrenches at it's arm, trying to break from the demons death grip-  until he sees two Kerberos Gates. One on either side, flanking him. Shiro is still speaking, but Keith can barely hear him over the roar of the combined Gates; they look exactly the same, equally bright, equally powerful. Shiro has Black’s Grimoire open in his hands, gaze fixed steadily on the demon, and Keith doesn’t hear him properly until the last word:

“…submit!” Shiro finishes, his eyes narrowed at the demon as he holds a brand new Grimoire. The pages are still bright and new, except for the one lying open that’s covered in dark ichor, and the demon just, stops,, dropping Keith’s arm. Keith falls to the ground without the support and he can’t tear his eyes from Shiro, can’t tear himself away from the command of his voice, it’s like he has both of them under his duress.

The demon meets Shiro’s eyes, before bowing its head with an exhale.

And then it’s gone. Bound with the ichor it had so carelessly bled onto the floor.

Shiro slams the Grimoire shut, throwing it outside of the circle before he runs to Keith.

“Keith!” He says, dropping himself onto the floor next to him, hands going to Keith’s face, “Keith,” he says again, and Keith can only watch as Shiro’s hands move to his hair, matted with the same ichor Shiro used to bind the demon. Gently, Shiro puts an arm under Keith’s shoulder, pulling him up as Keith blinks at him. The room looks, feels, brighter. He has to squint to see Shiro’s face properly without his eyes hurting.

“That was maybe, the most, irresponsible thing you could have done Keith.” Shiro says. He can feel Red nodding in the back of his head in agreement.

“You could have been pulled in too.” Shiro says quietly, and Keith nods once as Shiro begins to guide him to the edge of the room. He’s not moving any faster than Keith. They both need rest.

“Did-” Keith begins, his voice sounding hoarse, like he’s forcing the words out. “Did you bind it?” He asks, looking up at Shiro, chest still heaving. They’re both panting like they’ve just been running. But The Gate behind them is no longer groaning and the illusion in the mirror has already faded back into nothing.

“We did.” Shiro answers, giving Keith a warm grin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After the sun has risen, after the rest of the Paladin's have awoken, Keith and Shiro stand shoulder to shoulder in front of Lord Zarkon. Both donning their ceremonial wear. Shoulders back, arms clasped behind thems, looking straight ahead in perfect symmetry, almost. Shiro has always been taller, broader too. Keith pulls himself up. Pushes his back a little straighter. Takes a quick glance at Shiro out of the corner of his eye. Shiro’s posture is perfect, of course, his head held high, making direct eye contact with the High Guardian of The Kerberos Gate, second only to Her Majesty herself.

“Report.” Zarkon orders, and Keith’s eyes snap back ahead of him, but not before he sees the minuscule flinch of Shiro’s shoulders.

There’s a brief pause before Shiro starts talking, his voice coming out calm and collected, like he’s talking to a friend, a colleague. Not the High Guardian of The Kerberos Gate, in front of all the Paladin’s and Apprentice Paladin’s currently in the Palace. He’s already told this story before, first to a Lieutenant, then again to a General, then early this morning to Zarkon himself. Shiro had told all, from Keith’s -reckless, as Zarkon had deemed it- plan, to the mirror trick.

This time the report is for show.

“Last night, Apprentice Paladin Keith and I  bound a level 4 demon which had slipped through The Gate unwelcome, Sir.” Shiro answers for them both. Keith takes the moment, as the spotlight falls away from him and onto Shiro, to sneak another glance to his left. The adrenaline from the binding has worn off now, and Shiro shows no signs of it even having happened. There isn’t a hair out of place, his clothes still look freshly pressed. Keith, on the other hand, looks like he’s just finished a sprint, he can still feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck, can still feel the void of power. Closing slowly, as his body tries to recover from using Red. He pulls at his shirt with one hand, the other still holding the Grimoire they used to trap the demon. It’s a feeble attempt to straighten it out.

_I told you to tuck it in._ He feels her more than he hears her, feels Red’s breath in his ear, as if she’s standing right next to him, when really she’s bound within the Red Grimoire at his side. Just like the demon they bound earlier.

“Apprentice?” Zarkon barks. His eyes are fixed on Keith, who can’t help but blink for a moment before springing into action, moving forward and placing the new Grimoire in Zarkon’s hands.  He feels the power in the Grimoire pulling at him, for a split second, before he lets go. Like a magnet trying to drag him back. But he pulls away as Zarkon clasps the book in his hands.

Keith slots himself back next to Shiro. He can feel the eyes of everyone else in the room leave him, now that he’s done his job. Everyone- from Apprentice Paladins to the scribes who created the Grimoires to the highest ranking Lords in the country- had been called in to present their findings, their spoils, to Zarkon. He and Shiro had collected the biggest bounty this time. An incredibly powerful demon, bound into a Grimoire. Bindings were rare at The Kerberos Gate, especially of a demon this powerful.

The room falls silent as Zarkon opens the Grimoire and purple bolts of lightning begin to scatter from the book. Zarkon’s lips pull themselves into a smile, showing too many teeth, like an animal that’s about to strike.

“Demon.” He says as another purple bolt finds its way out of the Grimoire, narrowly missing Zarkon. He doesn’t even flinch.

“You have been bound to serve Her Majesty the Queen of England.” Zarkon begins, finishing the binding that Keith and Shiro began. “In return you will be granted the chance to prove your worth, your strength, and then you shall be granted your freedom.” He continues, making brief eye contact with Shiro before returning his gaze to the Grimoire.

“As per our agreement.” He finishes.

_As per our agreement._ The demon returns. The final words of the binding process, cementing it’s bond with Zarkon himself. A final cascade of bolts are thrown upwards, shooting towards the ceiling like sparks from a fire before everything fizzles out. Zarkon slams the book shut. And the room is left in silence. Keith can’t see but he knows the demon has stained a page, solidifying its agreement in its own ichor.

“Excellent work Apprentice Paladin Shirogane.” He says, the teeth have disappeared, hidden behind a knowing grin as Zarkon takes in Shiro.

“Thank you, Sir.” Shiro responds.

“Continue like this, Shirogane, and you will find yourself at my right hand one day.” Zarkon continues, Keith feels Shiro pull himself impossibly straighter.

“Apprentice Paladin Kogane.” Zarkon continues, eye’s narrowing on Keith as he goes rigid. Suddenly remembering the untucked shirt, and the sweaty hair, he hadn’t even bothered to pull out the hair tie from the night before. “Your recklessness almost cost you both your lives, almost cost us our realm’s stability. Learn to follow orders.” He says coldly. Before Keith can even breathe out his own ‘yes sir’ he adds; “Don’t waste the potential I saw in you.” before brushing them to the side. Shiro has a hand on Keith’s shoulder already, gently pulling him over to the wall, to blend in with the other apprentices.

“There will be important Spellwork at The Kerberos Gate tonight.” Zarkon says, addressing the room as a whole this time. “Under no circumstances, is anyone invited to approach The gate, it will be too dangerous.” He adds, before nodding a dismissal.

The room drains quickly, and chatter breaks out the moment they pass the double doors, the moment they leave Zarkon’s quarters, but Keith and Shiro remain silent. Zarkon’s words are spiraling inside his head. Reckless … wasted potential ...

“Keith?” Shiro asks when they’ve cleared the hallway, the other Apprentice Paladins are giving them a wide breadth so close to Zarkon’s offices. “You okay?” he says, a hand reaching for Keith’s shoulder as Keith meets his eyes, and it’s like Shiro understands instantly.

“You won’t waste your potential.” He says, answering the question Keith hadn’t even put into words. “Zarkon’s way of leading is different Keith. Some lead with incentives, some like to push their students.”

Keith can’t help but huff in response. Shiro’s right. He’s always right, and Shiro’s words are worth a hundred of Zarkon’s.

“I bet Alfor never spoke to apprentices that way.” He mutters under his breath, Shiro nudges him almost as soon as the name Alfor leaves his mouth.

“I mean-” Keith tries to continue, but Shiro begins to shush him.

“Not here Keith. Not now.” He says, looking over Keith’s head, his face breaking into a grin.

The crowd around them has mostly dispersed now, with the exception of three. Keith immediately follows Shiro’s gaze, like the flowers that always face the sun, just in time to duck out the way of the apprentice about to knock into him.

“Did you guys really bind that demon?” The tall apprentice asks, coming to a stop right next to Keiths ear.

“Lance, did you not listen to anything Zarkon said?” Pidge asks, making her way over to Keith and Shiro, the last of their friends, Hunk at their side.

“I did too.” Lance replies, swinging an arm around Keith’s shoulder, ignoring the groan Keith lets out in response. “I just figured I’d reconfirm with our own, personal, sources.”

Pidge lets out an audible sigh as Shiro jumps in, before a full blown argument breaks out.

“Yes Lance, we really did.”

“Dude, that is awesome.” Hunk says, “I mean, it sounds really scary, and I’d rather never have to do that but- awesome.”

“It is pretty cool.” Pidge adds. “Even if he was rough on you Keith.

Keith feels himself bristle under Lances arm, but his friends are all looking at him, even Lance, with a hint of pity. No one wants to be the apprentice that the High Guardian calls a waste of potential.

“I couldn’t have done it without Keith.” Shiro finally says. He’s saying it to the rest of the group but his eyes are on Keith, waiting until Keith finally meets them, before breaking into a smile.

“Both of us took down that demon. Zarkon wasn’t exactly there to see it.” He adds, Keith hears Pidge laugh to his right, quickly followed by Hunk hushing her, a whispered, “Not right in front of his quarters Pidge!” leaving his mouth. But in that moment it’s just him and Shiro. Shiro knows what he did, Shiro knows his worth, his potential. And that’s what matters.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Long after Lance, Hunk and Pidge have called it a night, Shiro clicks the lock on their shared dorm room closed.

There are two beds, but Shiro takes Keith’s hand, leading him over to, what is officially Keith’s bed, pulling him into a soft kiss. One Keith leans into instinctively as Shiro’s arms wrap around him, guides them down to the bed, until they’re lying side by side.

Shiro pulls away to lean his forehead against Keith's, they’re both still fully clothed but Keith doesn’t care, in this moment it’s just him and Shiro. No apprentices to watch them, no Zarkon to comment on lost potential, just Keith and Shiro. Keith lets his eyes close, leaning in until their foreheads touch, a hand grasping Shiro’s shirt loosely, letting his eye’s fall shut.

“You were amazing today, Keith.” Shiro murmurs. Leaning up on one arm and planting a kiss in his hair. “Like always.”

Keith lets the praise wash over him for a second. This, coming from Shiro, is all he needs. It doesn’t matter what Zarkon has to say, it never has, it doesn’t matter if the other apprentices think he was only brought here as a favour to Shiro, the apprentice with the most potential since Zarkon himself.

“You were better.” Keith finally replies, pulling back to look up at Shiro. “You’ll be replacing Zarkon as High Guardian before you know it.”

“Keith.” Shiro admonishes. “That’s practically treason.” He scolds. But Keith can see the light in his eyes, the way the praise lights him up. Keith has always made sure to praise Shiro, even though it used to be the other way around but after Shiro's parent's deaths he had taken up the duty.

“I didn’t say anything about Her Majesty.” He responds and Shiro bursts out into quiet laughter.

“No. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.” He says, leaning back into the pillows and pulling Keith down with a loose hand on his shoulder, until Keith is lying next to him, half on top of him really.

Keith lets the drowsiness take over him, shifting a little until Shiro’s shoulder becomes a pillow. He hears a small laugh from Shiro but elects to ignore it, instead basking in the steady rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of the arm Shiro wraps around him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Keith wakes up cold. Way too cold for summer, in a wing of the palace reserved for apprentices. Too cold for someone who usually finds himself sleeping next to Shiro, who seems to radiate heat at all hours.

First he reaches out, to his left, where Shiro can usually be found. But he can’t feel anything. He turns, the bed sheet getting twisted in his legs as he does, to see nothing. The bed looks like it’s been slept in, the pillows are no longer plump and full. But there’s no sign of Shiro, Keith pulls himself up at that, eyes reaching to the bed on the other side of the room. The one that is officially Shiro’s. Empty, not a sheet out of place.

“Shiro?” He asks the empty room, but he’s met with only silence.

Zarkon had said there would be important Spellwork going on overnight. Perhaps Shiro had been invited?

_My paladin._ Red whispers into the silence of the room. _You should get some rest._ She says.

“Do you know where Shiro went?” He asks her, directing his words at the Grimoire lying on the bedside table. He’s not really sure where he should direct his words when he talks to Red. Sometimes he doesn’t even have to speak, just think and she will respond.

_No._ She replies. _Perhaps you are right. Perhaps he was invited to the Spellwork._

Keith shrugs in return.

“Good for Shiro.” He says, leaning back down towards the mattress, he’s surprisingly susceptible to Red’s mothering, considering he never really had a mother of his own. “He’s worked so hard for his place here.”

_As have you._ She replies, but Keith barely registers it, his eyes are already closed and sleep is already pulling him back in.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Keith wakes it's to light pouring in through thin curtains, the bed still empty. He eases himself up, slowly, his bones still aching from the day before. ‘Shiro must be in the dining room’ his mind supplies as he pulls on the Paladin uniform he discarded on the floor last night.

He’s a little disgruntled when he gets to the dining hall. Keith is not a morning person, and Shiro is usually there to make sure he’s awake on time. Shiro’s  always been an early riser. He finds Pidge, Lance and Hunk almost immediately and drops into the empty chair next to Pidge, her face buried in a book.

“No Shiro to save you from your bed this morning?” Lance asks, clearly taking in the crumpled state of his clothes.

“I thought he would be here.” He answers, taking another look around the hall, searching for Shiro, for the guy holding his back as straight as possible, even when he’s relaxed, for the familiar soft tuft of white hair, for the scar across the nose, but Shiro isn’t anywhere to be seen..

“Maybe he’s with Zarkon.” Hunk says, “y’know, he did say he had potential yesterday.”

“The bed- his bed” Keith corrects, “was empty when I woke up last night.” He finishes.

Pidge hums in agreement before adding; “Zarkon did say that there would be Spellwork at The Gate last night, maybe he asked for Shiro’s help.”

“That’s what I figured last night.” Keith replies.

Keith let’s the words fade past him as Pidge and Hunk begin to speculate on the Spellwork.

“Maybe he was fortifying The Gates defence's after yesterday.” Hunk says.

“Or getting a demonstration of that mirror trick from Shiro. Maybe Shiro’s mirror spell can be used to take double the amount of power from that gate?” Pidge says, she’s long shut her book and is becoming more and more involved in the conversation.

“How? It’s just a reflection, it’s not actually The Gate.”

Keith tunes it out, it’s not like he doesn’t care, but he’s more worried about Shiro. Shiro’s mirror magic is strong, stronger than they all thought, but Zarkon will just want to exploit it. If Pidge and Hunk are right, Shiro won’t just be useful for spying on the enemies of England. Shiro has proved again and again that his relationship with Black, the Grimoire he controls, is getting stronger and stronger by the day.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Red nudges him to eat something, to not let worry overtake him, so he does.

He doesn’t get long to eat, breakfast was almost over when he walked in anyway, and soon the room quiets as High Guardian Zarkon enters. He’s in formal wear more restrictive than the Paladin uniforms.

He takes his place at the front of the room, in front of a tapestry depicting The Gate and the Paladins of old, facing them as the room falls into silence, ready for the morning briefing. It’s usually nothing that affects them too greatly; changes to The Gate, assignments for the day, updates on the growing threat from Spain. It’s not usually delivered by Zarkon personally.

“As you all know, Spellwork was done on The Gate last night, and I am pleased to announce it was a success.” Zarkon begins, then he goes on to give assignments; upper class Paladins, Shiro and Keith’s distinction, are to train new recruits. Mid class, Lance’s class, are to guard The Gate in groups of no less than 6. Development class, those specialising in the building of Grimoires and uncovering the secrets of The Gate like Pidge and Hunk, are to report the week’s findings to Her Majesty after lunch.

“Lastly,” Zarkon begins, “I am disappointed to tell you that Apprentice Paladin Shirogane was caught attending Catholic Mass late last night.” Gasps can be heard around the room. Keith's head feels fuzzy, not processing. he can't tear his eyes away from Zarkon. Maybe he misheard?

”As you are all aware, this was made a treasonable offence by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, punishable by death.” Zarkon continues, he sounds bored, as if this is another assignment for the apprentices. “In accordance with both the law and the rules set for Paladins, he has been arrested and his name will be struck from Paladin records.”

_Be calm my Paladin._ Red is saying in his ear, before Keith even realises his breathing is speeding up, but he can’t see straight, can’t think straight. Shiro attending a Catholic Mass? Shiro had confided in Keith years ago that he didn’t believe in Christianity of any form. He couldn’t understand a God who would punish his children, couldn’t understand a God who would let Keith’s father be murdered, just for being Catholic. Shiro’s family were devout followers of Queen and Church. Protestant.

“I understand that this is a shock to all, myself included. We have lost a truly skilled Paladin but treason will not be forgiven.” Zarkon says and Keith feels the anger rise, his breaths coming out heavier, faster, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

Pidge has her hands clasped over her mouth, Hunk and Lance are staring ahead in shock, their expressions mirrored by Apprentice Paladins across the room.

Keith stands up before he knows what he’s doing.

“Sir.” He says, hands fisting at his sides. He doesn’t even wait for Zarkon’s nod to continue.

“Shiro couldn’t have been at a Catholic Mass last night. He would never betray Her Majesty.” He begins, Shiro is all about the duty, all about following the rules. And he isn’t Catholic. Keith knows.

“Apprentice Kogane, I understand your shock-”

“No.” Keith says before he can finish, the word ripping its way out of his chest. “No, he can’t have been there, he wouldn’t have. I know him, Sir. I’ve known him most of my life, there is no way-”

“Paladin!” Zarkon’s voice rings out, dripping with anger. “Watch your tone.” He says locking eyes with Keith, daring him to speak again.

“As stated.” Zarkon resumes, his voice back to the steady, authoritative tone he uses to address the Paladins. “Paladin Shirogane was found at a Catholic Mass and will not be returning. Dismissed. Except for you, Kogane.” He says.

Keith’s hands, balled into fists at his sides, are shaking now. He doesn’t know if it’s with anger or fear. Anger at Zarkon- for lying? Anger at Shiro- for disappearing? Fear of abandonment? There are screeches as the benches are pushed back, scraping against the floor, so that the other apprentice Paladins can stand.

Shiro wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t betray the Paladins. Being a Paladin is all he ever dreamed of. As children the two of them had fantasised about joining the Paladins, it had been their everything, and Shiro was the best. Shiro followed his duties, never placed a foot out of line, he was the role model, the most popular, the golden boy, everyone loved him. But no one says anything. No one stands up for Shiro alongside Keith, all that revere, all the admiration, and no one is going to say a word?

“Is that it?” He asks, his voice coming out as barely a whisper, gaze fixed on the table.

_My Paladin, be calm._ Red repeats, she sounds more agitated than last time, but Keith ignores her.

“Well?” He asks, turning to his peers, to Lance, Pidge and Hunk, who are returning his gaze with wide eyes, to the other apprentices in their class, to the senior Paladins standing with Zarkon.

“None of you are going to stand up for him?” He asks again, his voice rising, shaking with anger. The other apprentices still lingering in the dining hall are glancing at him, murmuring to one another.

“He would for you, you know. Each and every one of you. And now you’ll just let Zarkon throw him to the tower? We don’t even know if this is true!”

“Keith,” Lance says, he looks worried, so do Hunk and Pidge, but that isn’t the right reaction. They should be shouting with him.

“You should investigate!” Keith continues, he doesn’t even know if he’s talking to Zarkon or to his peers anymore, “He’s one of the best Paladins, why won’t you fight for him?”

“Paladins, you are dismissed.” Zarkon says again, stepping away from his position and into the sea of tables the apprentice paladins sit at every morning. His command final, and people begin to leave even faster, and Keith feels like the air has been knocked out of him. The apprentices are giving Keith a wide breadth, like maybe just being Shiro’s roommate means that the treason will rub off on them. Even the senior Paladins leave, until it’s just him and Zarkon. Even Pidge, Hunk and Lance have made their escape.

Zarkon is facing him, so close Keith can smell the rich perfume hanging from his clothes.

“I understand that the two of you were close, Kogane.” Zarkon says, his tone less formal, as he places a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He resists the urge to shrug it off. It feels like an empty gesture. ‘Shiro usually squeezes’ he thinks.

“But it is best you try to move on, he will be tried for high treason, you know the punishment.” Keith’s breath hitches. He does know the punishment, everyone in the country does. Death.

But he doesn’t know what- who he is without Shiro. Shiro has always been there, helping him when his father died. Guiding him. If Shiro hadn’t wanted to become a Paladin, Keith wouldn’t be a Paladin.

“He will most likely be put to death this week.” Zarkon says, the final blow landing.

It’s like the ground has been pulled out from under him, like he has just been pushed from the ledge of the gallows, to begin struggling for air with nowhere to put his feet. No support, not from Shiro.

“But you must be strong Kogane, you are our hope now.” Zarkon continues, and this is wrong, 'wrong wrong wrong', he doesn’t want to hear this.

“I believe that one day you will be stronger than Shirogane ever could have been.” he adds, his hand falling from Keith’s shoulder.

“I am putting you on leave for the rest of the week. You will not be getting a new roommate, the room is yours.” He says, before leaving Keith more alone than he has ever been.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sleepless nights later, Keith pulls himself from his bed- their bed. His body aching from inactivity, he can’t sleep, he isn’t tired enough. But he can’t concentrate during the long summer days either.

Zarkon banned him from leaving the apprentices building, took him off of all duties, even barred him from the training rooms. He had walked the halls the first day, anything to get the nervous ache from his bones but he couldn’t handle the stares, the whispers from other apprentices and had eventually confined himself to their- _his_ room.

Red is by his side, as always, he could feel her like a comforting warmth in the corner of his mind, nudging him to eat at the end of the first day, and again now. ‘Does Shiro still feel his connection to Black, even if he no longer has his Grimore?’  He wonders. Keith doesn’t even know where it is anymore. He’d turned the room upside down the first night, looking, for anything, any sign of Shiro. All he’d found was his ring, sitting on the bedside table, as black as night, not a drop of corruption. ‘Is Shiro even still alive?’

It’s late, light’s out must have been hours ago, but he pulls himself up and to the sink inside their room, a privilege for upper class Paladins.

The Keith that looks back at him looks haggard, eyes are staring back at him through dark circles, his hair is flying in multiple directions and covered in a thin layer of grease and one cheek is a light pink colour, probably from lying on his side, unmoving, for the better part of the day.

He splashes cold water on his face, ignoring the chill but, when he turns away he catches a glimpse of white out the corner of his eye. He flinches back into place, back in front of the mirror. Except it’s not his own face staring back at him this time.

It’s Shiro’s.

He’s saying something, his mouth is opening and closing, eyes fixed in one place, he can’t see Keith, like the blind cat Shiro had fed for a week when they were teenagers, before they became apprentices.

Urgency grips him next, if this is Shiro, if Shiro is there, he needs to get through to him, somehow.

“Shiro!” It comes out as more of a croak than anything, but he grips the mirror, half expecting his hands to fall through. “Shiro, can you hear me?” He asks, gripping the frame of the mirror and shaking, as if he could shake Shiro’s shoulders that way. The Shiro in the mirror keeps yelling, not reacting to Keith at all, but he can make out two words now,

“Zarkon…” Shiro says voice fading as if he’s getting further away.

“Voltron.” is the last word he hears, and it’s Shiro’s voice. Definitely Shiro’s voice.

Keith doesn’t even realise he blinks, but, in that second, the illusion is gone. The mirror is reflecting him again, face panic stricken, red eyes rimmed with black circles.

His voice comes out horse, cracked, but he can’t help his hand reaching for the mirror, as Shiro’s name falls from his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's search for Shiro leads him somewhere he never thought it would, straight into The Kerberos Gate itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of ran away with me haha, stay tuned for some fluff, some light horror and a whole lot of mystery. Please [check out](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/) my partner for this Reverse Bang, Zenthisor!
> 
> Special thanks to my two amazing beta readers who do V helpful things like remove my hundreds of commas and rename Zarkon to "Lord Dickward"

Keith finds himself outside Zarkon’s office when the sun is highest in the sky. It’s bright today, unusual for London, and the corridors are empty as Zarkon is calling a meeting for all paladins.

But Keith is excused. He is on leave after all.

He’s heard the whispers during meals- too distraught over Shiro’s death, calling High Guardian Zarkon a liar, and offending the High Guardian.

He tries the door first, on the faint hope that this would be easy, but it’s locked. With one look over his shoulder Keith pulls out Red’s Grimoire, leaning his right shoulder against the door. He doesn’t even have to ask Red, she just knows what to do, and in an instant he finds the door against his left shoulder instead.

 _What would you do without me and my magic?_ Red asks in the back of his head.

“Learn to pick locks.” He mutters, moving straight for the desk.

The high guardian’s study is larger than his and Shiro’s shared room. Set against a window as tall as the ceiling is the desk, light flooding in from behind to illuminate the stacks of paper covering it. There are doors on either side of the room, towards Zarkon’s private rooms Keith guesses. He’s seen glimpses of the study before, out of the corner of his eye.

The desk is covered in books, papers, official looking files. Keith picks up an envelope with his thumb and forefinger, the seal of the Queen unbroken, dropping it before he can do any damage. He moves onto stack of papers instead, opened letters, no harm in reading them. The writing is beautiful. Letters curling like vines across the page, nothing like the short, sharp strokes Shiro taught him to make on paper. He pulls the files close to his eyes, trying to recognise the letters.

 _It is believed that Spain’s Armada consists of ninety ships._ The opening sentence of one reads. There’s a line through the ninety and a hasty 130 is scribbled above.

Armada. It’s something Keith has heard before, something Shiro has mentioned to him, in the quiet of their room. Didn’t Shiro mention spying on the Spanish for Zarkon? Red agrees quietly in the back of his head, she must have heard that conversation between them.

“A threat to England?” He mumbles, more to himself than to Red as he puts the letter down. She doesn’t answer anyway.

The rest of that stack are more of the same so he moves onto the file lying open on the desk. He flips through a few pages, each with a different name on the top. He flicks through faster, until he begins to recognise the names of other apprentices.

…Katie Holt… He flicks past Pidge’s page, he doesn’t have time to decipher everything.

…Keith Kogane… nothing he doesn’t know already, his training scores and aptitudes are written down there, _holds the Red Grimoire, light magic._ is written under his name. He flicks past Lance’s and Hunk’s, Shiro’s is the same as the others, _Holds the Black Grimoire_ is written underneath, _mirror magic._ Keith puts the file down with a sigh, relaxing his shoulders and turning it back to a page near the front. There has to be something else, what he saw in the mirror can’t be a lie.

He takes a step back, away from the desk, but his foot catches on something- a loose floorboard. His foot slipping with it. And he stops. Looking down at it, moving his foot again, this time the whole floorboard moves with it.

There’s a part of him that suspends all reason, ‘a hidden floorboard? Why not?’ it says as he drops to his knees, fingers catching the edges of the floorboard and pulling it away, to reveal… a book?

It’s as large as a Grimoire, its cover faded and ripped at the edges. Gingerly he reaches down and pulls it from the hole in the floor, placing it on the floor next to him. The cover is marked, but not with words he recognises. Latin. Red supplies for him. _Shiro never got around to teaching you that, did he?_ She asks softly. Keith shakes his head. Just a few weeks ago Shiro had suggested teaching him some Latin.

“A Paladin should know at least some Latin.” He’d laughed. Keith had asked him the meaning of a couple of words he had come across during his reading practice. Shiro had been teaching him to read for the past year. Even as he sounded the words out, he hadn’t recognised it as English.

Keith’s father had been poor, he grew up in a wooden building, crammed in with two other families. His father couldn’t supply him the same opportunities in life that Shiro’s merchant parents were able to afford. He hadn’t known how to read himself, let alone have the money to get Keith a tutor. But Shiro had never held it against him, had never looked down on him like some of the other apprentice paladins had.

“Ad Astra.” He remembers Shiro saying. “It means ‘to the stars.’”

He pulls the book open, turning the pages carefully until he comes to a section bulging with extra papers, every inch of space not covered in print has been scrawled on in thin characters. The section is headed, and he tries to sound out the word written at the top in bold lettering, just like Shiro taught him.

“V … ol … tu-tron.”

Wait. He’s heard this before. He’s heard this word from Shiro’s own lips.

Voltron.

He leans closer to the book, as close as he can possibly get. The print is in Latin but he recognises the words around the edges as English and leans in closer to read them.

It’s slow going, reading English that has been created with a printing press is easy, the letters always look the same, but handwriting is something Keith struggles with. Not everyone’s lettering looks the same.

Eventually he pieces together the words scribbled around the margins.

“Voltron, strongest demon ever recorded within the Kerberos Gate.” Is written under the heading. Further down there are instructions for summoning the demon. Keith can’t read everything, but the key ingredient is clear. Voltron requires a sacrifice, one whose power it deems worthy.

He turns the page to find a stack of sheets slotted between the pages, a list of names, all with the words “failed - deceased” scrawled next to them. His eyes skim the list until one name, at the bottom of the list shines out to him.

Takashi Shirogane.

But there’s nothing written next to it. He begins turning the pages again, rifling through the loose leafs of paper until he finds one titled Alfor. Alfor the deceased last High Guardian.

He wants to ask Red, to find out if she knows anything, but before he can even form the question in his head she is nudging him into action. He closes the book, moving it back into the space under the floorboard before he hears the voices outside the door.

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath before Red nudges him towards the window. There’s a lock, but before Keith can even worry he finds himself on the other side, Red’s magic moving him past the barrier without him even having to ask. He crouches under the window, it’s wide and there’s still a chance someone will see him.

He hears the door open and close. Footsteps. And then Zarkon’s voice.

“What is it you would like to discuss, General Sendak.” He says.

“It’s just rumour at the moment, Sir,” Sendak, General to Her Majesty’s army, responds “but there seems to be evidence to suggest that the Spanish have learnt to summon demons.”

There’s a sigh, which must be from Zarkon.

“I fear, Her Majesty fears, that we need Voltron’s power sooner rather than later.” Sendak continues.

“The last subject was a failure.” Zarkon says.

“Yes. Her Majesty would like to know if you have the next in mind?” Sendak shoots back.

There’s a pause. Keith can’t hear any movement, he remains still, hoping that he hasn’t been spotted.

“Yes.” Zarkon finally says. “But he is not ready yet.”

 

* * *

 

 

The word Voltron circles Keith’s mind for the remainder of the day, along with the images of Shiro trapped in the mirror. He skips dinner, spends the evening on the floor of his room, back against the bed. He feels as if a hole has been ripped through his chest, like there’s something missing inside him and not just next to him in their bed, and it hurts. It hurts so much. He misses Shiro so much. His mind replays the words he saw scrawled in the book until he can’t take it any longer.

“Do you think Shiro really is dead?” He asks Red, her Grimoire lying open on his chest. She’s the closest thing he has to family now, and this is as close as he can get to physical contact.

He’s left with the stale air in his room for a moment before she answers.

_No._

“Then where is he?”

_That, I do not know, my Paladin._

“Can’t you ask Black?” He asks, trying not to let the hope drip into his tone. He feels her answer, the apology washes over him, as if he’s the one feeling the remorse.

His room is hot, he hasn’t bothered opening the window since Shiro disappeared. He’s barely left the room since he was put on leave. He can’t even bear to move Shiro’s ring, the black band given to all Paladin’s to gauge their own corruption from The Gate, from where it sits on the nightstand, gathering dust.

“Should I keep looking?” He finally asks.

Red doesn’t respond for a moment, like she’s letting the words fill the room. They are the only words that matter right now. Keith can either keep looking, pour his heart and soul into this, or he can go on. Without Shiro. Alone again.

 _Keith, before your time, in a different country, the people used to have a saying ‘dum spiro spero’._ She begins, her tone cautious. _It means ‘while I breathe, I hope’ you must have hope Keith, without it you will achieve nothing._

Keith takes her words in with his next breath, feeling them fill his lungs, his heart.

“You’re telling me not to give up.” He says, feeling her agreement. “While I breathe, I hope.” He repeats. More to himself now. It feels right. He’ll never give up on Shiro, he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Shiro. So maybe now it’s his turn to help Shiro, his turn to do the saving.

He turns onto his side, moving Red’s Grimoire onto the nightstand, catching a glimpse of the ichor staining a page in the middle.

“Red,” He asks again, “has a human ever crossed the Gate and survived?” he finishes slowly, anxiety piling inside him. He feels like the child who asked too many questions, who annoyed their parents too much.

 _Keith._ She sounds somewhere between a mother reprimanding her child and someone bearing bad news. _Where do you think the demons most interested in the human world came from?_ Keith feels his breath hitch. Because this can’t be right, demons are their own entities, there was nothing human about them. That’s what they had been taught as apprentice paladins.

 _Why do you think so many powerful demons seem to stumble through the gate?_ She continues. _Why do so many know how, exactly, to wreak havoc on your realm?_

 _The most powerful of us, of demons, were all originally human._ She finishes, letting the words sink in.

“Even you?” He asks softly, not sure that he’s ready for the answer.

 _Even me._ She says calmly. _But I have made peace with it Keith._ She adds, feeling the worry rising in his chest and pushing it back down for him. But he can still sense her unease, there’s something wrong. Something off in the way she is explaining this.

 _Did you really not know Keith?_ She asks softly. He shakes his head.

“We are taught when we become apprentices that demons are angels fallen from God’s grace.” He says. “That you are born of something higher than us humans. And that you have fallen as far as you possibly can.” He can feel her ruffle at his explanation.

 _There is some truth there perhaps, not all are born from humans._ She says.

“Are there differences? Between those of you who were once human? And those who never were?” He asks slowly, he’s not sure how much more he wants to know.

_Those of us born of humans can command great strength. Many go mad, with anger and sorrow. With loneliness. We will never fit in with the other members of our realm, Keith. We will always be somewhere in between. Some of us become power hungry, some long to return to this realm, any way we can, even if we have to be bound to a Grimoire._

Keith’s mind is already turning, things slotting into place. Demons born of humans are strong, impossibly strong. Voltron needs sacrifices.

“Do you think…” He begins cautiously, fighting around the lump forming in his throat. “Do you think Zarkon pushed Shiro through the gate?” He asks.

Red doesn’t answer him. He can feel her uncertainty, and her suspicion.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By morning Keith is ready to act on his suspicions. Everything he’s heard, everything he’s seen points in one direction. Shiro, lost, somewhere inside the Kerberos Gate. 

He leaves his- their- room, for the first time in days. The other Apprentice Paladin’s are still giving him a wide breadth, but he barely notices. His focus is tunnelling towards the only thing that matters; getting Shiro back.

He spends days in the Paladin Archives, a room twice as large as the mess hall they all eat in. Its walls are covered in books, reaching so high that Keith has to use ladders to reach some. 

The library is quiet, there are restrictions on talking, something Keith is thankful for. He’s heard the murmurs in the hallways, he’s heard the snatched conversations, hushed before he passes, about how the loss of Shiro unnerved him, about him only becoming a Paladin on Shiro’s recommendation, about his numbered days before Zarkon kicks him out without Shiro’s support. 

In the library they can look, but at least they can’t talk. 

He ignores everyone. Every day. It’s mostly Development Class Paladins doing research for higher ups. Sometimes new recruits are in there studying. They nudge each other as he walks past but he pays them no mind.

He spends hours pouring over and deciphering the print in books, sounding out every single word. It’s the most reading he’s ever read in his life. It’s slow and painful and by the end of each day he’s leaving the library with a splitting headache. He finds Books about the history of The Kerberos Gate, books about the demon’s realm, books about the history of the Paladins. Most of the books are on things covered in the lessons given to new recruits. He skips a lot of it, he knows it all anyway Shiro used to recite the history of The Paladin’s to him when they were younger.

The Paladins of the Kerberos Gate, as they are known now, were established under King Henry VII to protect their realm. Under his son, King Henry VIII, The Queen’s father, they were aligned with the Protestant Church and the army- The High Guardian holding equal status to the Army General. Paladins of old, under different titles of; Wizards, Witches, and Priests, litter their countries history. The Kerberos Gate has stood for centuries longer and the land it stands on has long been contested by the kings of old.

There is little on the realm which lies inside The Gate. 

No accounts, that Keith can find, of Paladins who have crossed its boundary. There is speculation. Speculation that hell sits on the other side; that The Gate is, in reality, the River Styx of Greek myth. The boundary between Earth and the Underworld. Under Henry VII, and later Queen Mary, it was purgatory and the demons its occupants. An idea done away with in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, along with Catholicism. 

He tries asking Red, at night, back in their room, what the inside of The Gate is like. But her answers are vague.

_ It is a realm, similar to yours.  _ She says at first,  _ like you humans, we are brought into the world with little knowledge as to why we are here, what we are here to achieve. _

“Is it warm?” He asks her one night, Red’s Grimoire is lying open next to the basin as he stares into the mirror, willing Shiro to appear again, to tell him. To let him know that he’s on the right path. 

_ Warm?  _ She asks, _ inside the gate?  _

Keith watches himself nod inside the mirror, his face gaunt. He can’t sleep, he can’t eat. His eyes are red rimmed. Red never mentions it but she must have heard the sobs he was unable to stifle the previous night.

_ Sometimes.  _ Is her response. _ Like your own realm, it varies. _

He takes in a breath, pulling it in as far as possible before exhaling, and resists the urge to slam her Grimoire shut.

_ I know it is vague, _ Keith. She says, sensing his anger.  _ But I have been bound so long, it is just a memory now. _

It takes a few days, he always knew he was heading there, but eventually Keith decides it is time. Time to cross The Gate. 

He can feel Red’s apprehension as the idea finally settles in his head but he ignores it, pushes it to the side. He can’t go on like this, not knowing. And if Shiro is alive… he has to try. 

Once he comes to his decision it’s like someone has bandaged the hole in his chest. It’s still there, but pushed to the back of his mind, sheer hope is holding his ribs together now.

He begins attending breakfast again, if only to hear the new assignments for Paladins. He feels Red’s relief, no more sneaking to the kitchens in the dead of night to eat when the hunger tearing at his stomach becomes too much to bear. 

He can see that relief mirrored on his friend’s faces too. 

“Keith!” Lance had exclaimed the first morning he rejoined breakfast. He enters with the morning rush, hoping to be lost in the sea of people. Lance had spotted him immediately, ushering him to their table and taking a seat next to him.

“Keith, buddy, how have you been?” Lance asks, the cheer in his tone sounds forced, but Keith doesn’t bring it up.

“Fine.” He says, grabbing a slice of the bread sitting in the middle of the table like a starving child.

“Keith…” Lance begins, his hand landing on Keith’s arm, Keith just shrugs it off.

“I said I’m fine, Lance.” He says just as Pidge and Hunk drop into their seats. He doesn’t look at Lance, doesn’t want to see the dejected look he’s sure is there.

“Woah, Keith…” Hunk begins. “You okay man?”

“Fine. Never been better.” He snaps, grabbing another slice, keeping his eyes on his food. 

He can feel his friends’ gazes on him, but he can’t talk to them. Can’t get them involved. One hint of his suspicion and they’ll either risk everything to help him, or go straight to Zarkon with worry. He can’t risk either.

“If you wanna talk about it…” Pidge begins slowly.

“I don’t.” He says and the table falls into silence.

The next few mornings get easier. He sits with his friends, and they skirt around the topic of Shiro, of Zarkon, of Keith’s health. But he sees the way Pidge’s eyes linger on his face, notices Lance switching sides with Hunk, notices the way Hunk tries to draw him into the conversation, but he doesn’t rise to it. 

‘It’s easier this way’ he thinks, if anything does go wrong they’ll be able to say he was pulling away.

He learns that The Gate has settled since he and Shiro bound the demon together. 

“Minimal activity is expected to continue.” He hears one of the graduated Paladin’s, a lieutenant now, say from behind him on the third morning. Gate watch is back down to groups of two.

‘Perfect.’ He thinks.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Keith chooses the early hours of the morning to enter The Gate. Knowing, from experience, that The Gate will be at its least active when the sun is rising, bright enough to push away any demons who may stray through its threshold.

He pulls open Red’s Grimoire and asks for her to lend him her magic. A layer of shadow falls on him before he has even finished forming the thought.

‘What does light magic even mean anyway?’ he wonders as he begins to move through the hallways towards the Gate Room, the shadow covering him from any prying eyes. Red’s Grimoire has always been described as such, but he’s found her powers to be a wide spectrum.

_ It means I manipulate light. _ Red replies in the back of his mind.

‘And allow me to pass through doors?’

_ You humans do not yet fully understand light. _ Is the only response she gives.

He shakes his head. Red has always been cryptic. It used to frustrate him when he was younger, three years into his training and he had first earned Red’s power. He used to argue with her, probe her with questions until she stopped speaking to him altogether. 

Zarkon had deemed him worthy of the Red Grimoire. She hadn’t agreed at first. Now - Four years later he doesn’t know what he would do without her.

He arrives at The Gate Room just as the watch is handing over. The door closed behind them. He sinks back into the shadows, confident that Red can keep him veiled. He recognises Lance instantly, his arms raised above his head in a stretch, making him appear even more lanky than usual. ‘The Gate must have settled if they’re leaving it to mid class apprentices.’

Red just urges him forward in response, now is his chance, after all, and he’s on the other side of the door. 

The Gate is nothing like the last time he saw it, it was almost unrecognisable that night. Angry, fighting to draw back the corruption leaking into their world. The room is warmer than outside, The Gate’s doorway leading to oranges and whites, like the small fire in their room Shiro lights when the days begin to get shorter. 

He only has a few seconds.

The Gate is never left unguarded for more than a moment.

So he takes a step forward into the circle. The one that acts as a barrier for any demons who stray into their realm. He keeps going, until he’s next to the Gate, Red’s Grimoire strapped into its holder against his thigh, and he holds a hand up to it.

It emits heat, just like the fire in their room. Just like when he reaches for the back of Shiro’s neck after a hard training session. Just like Shiro’s body, next to his, underneath the covers, radiating heat.

The door behind him creaks slightly as it begins to move, he can hear the voices of the Apprentice Paladins and he knows it’s time to act. This may be his only chance to find Shiro. So he takes the step.

Entering The Gate is like getting into a warm bath. Warmth washes over him for a second, and then it’s gone and he whips around to see The Gate behind him.

In his realm a frame has been built around it to resemble a real gate. In recent years it looks more and more like an elaborate door frame according to the Paladin history lessons. From this side there is nothing surrounding it. The warm oranges and whites swirl on their own, like a reflection in a puddle.

He turns back, letting himself take in the demon’s realm.

It’s colder on this side of The Gate; he can feel a chill in the air. The land before him is barren and devoid of life. There are no sinners being punished, no lake of fire, no eternal torment as The Church would have him believe hell to look. There are no souls waiting to pass either.

He cautiously takes a few steps forward. Nothing moves in front of him. He turns his head to the sides but they are just as empty as the space in front of him. The ground is even; it doesn’t feel as if it will fall away with his weight. 

When he’s sure of this, of the safety of the space in front of him, he begins to walk in earnest, turning his head every few seconds, looking out for stray demons. But Zarkon was right. The Gate really has settled, and the realm does seem to be the most dormant during the early hours.

He keeps The Gate in sight, not wanting to become stranded.

“Shiro?” He asks cautiously a few times, but there is no answer.

He’s tried reaching out to Red for guidance, advice, a map, anything. 

_ I have not been here in years, Keith. I know as little as you. _ Is the only response he is met with.

He doesn’t probe her anymore. The Red Grimoire is one of the oldest currently held by a Paladin. It has been passed from Paladin to Paladin for years, along with the Black Grimoire and a handful more.

It’s only when his feet begin to ache, a sharp throb edging it’s way up his skull, that Red gently nudges him to turn back. He does so without a word. ‘She’s probably right, for now.’

Red shrouds him in shadow once more and he steps through The Gate, unnoticed by the Paladin’s waiting on the other side. They’re too caught up in their own conversation to notice the ripple of The Gate as he passes through.

Back in the safety of his own room Keith collapses onto his bed. The smell of Shiro no longer lingers on the sheets; it truly is his now. Like Shiro was never even here with him. He pulls a hand through his hair, but on the way back to his side he notices a strip of white.

He shoots up, pulling his hand and ring finger closer for inspection.

His ring, the one given to all Apprentice Paladins to gauge corruption has a single white stripe staining the deep black.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning the white stripe is gone and Keith takes it as a sign, a sign that The Gate can’t really affect him.

He keeps away for a couple of days but he can’t keep himself away for long. He isn’t sure if it’s the need to find any link to Shiro, or the flash of something in his mirror which wasn’t his own face. Or if The Gate is calling him back. 

On his next trip he strays a little further, keeping The Gate at the edge of his peripheral vision. Just in case.

That night he sees Shiro in the mirror again, just for a moment, the word “Voltron” slipping from his mouth. As he searches for something Keith can’t see. Keith knows it will be useless, that Shiro can’t see him, can’t see through the mirror, but he still lifts his hand to the glass, says Shiro’s name. But Shiro is gone just as suddenly as he appeared.

The white stripe on his ring returns after every trip, and fades just as quickly. 

His trips quickly become more adventurous. He leaves The Gate behind him on his fifth trip. Making his way into the dark of the demons realm. His eyes adjust quickly to the terrain in front of him. 

There are trees in the distance but the area in front of him is devoid of life. The ground is hard and cracked. Nothing could survive here. Nothing living that is. As he gets closer to the forest, a demon appears, mindlessly making its way towards The Gate, as if being drawn. It pays him no mind, ‘low level’ his mind supplies, not a threat. But he grabs its attention anyway.  But it can’t understand him.

_ Primitive. _ Is how Red chooses to describe it.

He turns it around anyway, away from The Gate, from his realm.

Each night he gets further and further from The Gate. But he always finds his way back. Like a guiding string has been attached to his finger, pulling him back to his own world. He’s not sure if it’s his own senses or Red’s. He doesn’t bother to ask, too focused on finding Shiro, calling his name, asking any demon he comes across. Most are failed by words, unable to communicate even amongst one another. The ones that can are more powerful. They always want something in return for information. 

Keith gives what he can, taking on their strange requests, anything for an ounce of hope in return. 

He finds himself in a dense forest one night, The Gate somewhere behind his back. The forest isn’t anything like the trees and foliage he had experienced on his side of The Gate. The bark on trees is a steely grey, cold to the touch like metal in winter. He learnt a few days ago that the leaves were sharp, with jagged teeth, when he carelessly brushed his hand against one, drawing blood, he had wiped it away quickly on his shirt.

The demon he is face to face with is old and powerful. Not as powerful as Red, but not something he would like to have to bind alone.

“I’m looking for someone.” He says, projecting his voice as far as possible. The demon towers over him, it’s eyes frighteningly human.

“Gold.” It says. But Keith ignores it for the moment.

“My friend.” He says. The word feels foreign in his mouth. He’s called Shiro friend plenty of times, both before and after they came together. He had tested out other words in the safety of their room, underneath the covers, nestled close to Shiro.  _ Lover. Paramour. _ They had felt right. 

“His name is Shiro.” He continues, letting the memory of Shiro wash over him like the rays of sunlight on a chilly day.

“He has dark hair, with a white forelock. He is powerful. Have you seen him?”

“Gold.” The demon repeats. 

It takes everything he has not to roll his eyes. He hadn’t expected all demons to be as charismatic as Red. But he hadn’t expected so many of them to be like this either.

“I also want to know about Voltron. Anything and everything you know.” He adds, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single gold coin. The demon's hand shoots out then, palm reaching for the coin and Keith hands it over easily.

As an apprentice Paladin his room and board are supplied. He doesn’t have any other needs for money. Unlike Shiro and the other Paladins he doesn’t have a family to send it home to.

He continues this way for nights on end, Red in his ear the entire time, telling him to slow down, to stay on his side of The Gate. He ignores her. Listening only to the demons relaying whispers to him. 

None have seen Shiro. 

But they know of Voltron. Of its strength, of its power, and they urge him deeper into their realm.

Back on his side of The Gate, Keith begins to slot himself back into the Apprentice Paladin routine. He attends breakfast every morning, offering his friends the bare minimum in conversation when they probe him with questions. 

They ask how he’s doing. 

“Fine.” He responds. 

Hunk brings up the dark smudges under his eyes, from lack of sleep, they all know. They don’t know it’s from spending his nights on the other side of The Kerberos Gate. 

“It’s fine.” Is his only response. 

Eventually he’s given the go ahead by a lieutenant to rejoin Paladin training sessions, at Zarkon’s decision of course. 

His trips beyond The Gate grow longer, he travels further, begins speaking to any demon he finds, searching for Shiro. And after a few weeks the white stripe on his ring begins to grow, wider and wider each night, waxing and waning with the moon.

Until one morning, before training, he wakes to find the white has mostly faded, all but for a stripe, as thin as a needle, barely noticeable, unless you were looking for it. He turns the ring in wards, hiding it in his palm as he makes his way to an early training session. He doesn’t want anyone to see the corruption leaking into the ring, into him.

A few other upper class Paladins are waiting already, stretching, chatting, he catches a few glances as he walks in but nothing more. He’s been with this group of apprentices a long time now, but he’s never really settled in. 

He had been moved to mid class early, just a year after joining, catching up to Shiro faster than he could have hoped. There had been hushed whispers about him then too, saying he was too young for mid class, questioning his  _ talent _ , as Zarkon had called it. His first training session with this group had been awkward. He had been ushered into the room by the lieutenant assigned to their grade, Honerva, a fierce looking woman with grey hair and bright eyes.

“You have the wrong room, kid.” Someone had yelled, James, maybe. Keith couldn’t even remember who had said what anymore. 

“He will be joining you on Zarkon’s recommendation.” Honerva had replied, stunning the room into silence. 

Eyes had raked him up and down, taking in his size, his unruly hair, his lower class uniform. But not Shiro’s. Shiro had grinned at him, and Keith knew everything would be okay. The two years apart after Shiro left to become an apprentice Paladin had suddenly felt like nothing.

It had been a couple more years before he, Shiro, and a few other members of their group were promoted to upper class. With the promotion they were granted more privacy, moving from the dorms to rooms built for two. He and Shiro were to share a room. 

Keith had thanked the stars every night for a month after. They were no longer restricted to longing looks across hallways, to snatched touches in dark corners of the hallways. Their one kiss, the first, lips caught in an empty bathroom, turned into many as Keith padded over to Shiro’s bed in the midst of night. Until Shiro gave up any pretence of using his own bed.

Keith falls back into the training sessions as easily as putting one foot in front of the other to walk. The routines, stances, even the sparring and sword movements are all something he could do in his sleep and he completes every movement called out by Honerva with an easy familiarity. Paladins are expected to maintain the same standards as those in the army in order to provide support to Queen and country, if and when needed. They’re asked to perform drills with their Grimoires and their bond with the demon inside is also tested before the session is over. 

Keith is held back from leaving the session with his classmates by a bony hand on his wrist. He dispels a shudder. Something about Honerva has always set him in edge, her eyes are bright but she looks unearthly, too old and frail for the way she moves, as sharp as a soldier in their prime. The skin on her hand is taut, the bones sticking out, reminding him of a demon's hand, slipping through his hair, pulling him in towards The Gate.

“Keith.” She says, her voice as curt as ever.

He turns his body to her, straightening his back. “Yes, Ma’am.” He responds quickly, not quite meeting her eyes.

“You are making good progress despite such loss.” She says, and Keith’s eyes flicker up to meet the sadness in hers and his mind begins to race. ‘Does she know?’ Does anyone really know the extent of his and Shiro’s relationship? If anyone did find out, it would be considered Sin. Unlawful. 

“Zarkon is expecting great things from you.” Honerva continues. “Perhaps, you will be able to return to active duties soon?”

It takes a moment for him to realise that she’s waiting for an answer.

“Um, maybe.” He stumbles. 

He can’t say no. An Apprentice Paladin on rest for months is useless. He would be thrown out, separated from The Gate, from his only chance of finding Shiro.

“Maybe, in a few days.” He finishes. Still trying not to meet her eyes.

Honerva lets go of him, takes a step away and gives him a tight smile.

“Very well. I will let Lord Zarkon know.” She says.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He’s standing on a river bank just a few nights later, thick steam is rising from the water, hard and fast. He doesn’t dare touch, already feeling the heat radiating from the steam. 

The demon opposite him matches him in height, it looks more human than any demon he’s seen before. Except for its eyes. They’re a pure white, devoid of pupils. He slowly pulls out his dagger.

_ Keith, don’t. _ Red says harshly as he pulls on a lock of his hair.  _ Do not leave a part of yourself to this world, Keith, please. _ She says, her voice rising. 

He can feel her desperation in his chest. Or maybe it’s his own. Sometimes he doesn’t know where he ends and Red begins.

It’s been weeks, and still no sign of Shiro outside of the mirror in their room. He’s starting to wonder if he’s going insane, or if God is playing a cruel game with him.

_ Stop it! _ Red says again, like she’s scolding a child. But he ignores her. Pulling the dagger and cutting the lock of hair. He passes it to the demon’s outstretched hand wordlessly, completing its request and Red falls silent.

“I have not seen the one you search for.” The demon says, its mouth unmoving, its palled skin rippling with the words. “But I do know of Voltron, and Voltron’s sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?” He asks, he hasn’t been able to forget about the loose papers pushed between pages detailing the sacrifices needed for Voltron in Zarkon’s study, Shiro’s name scrawled at the bottom of a long list. He hasn’t been able to stop himself from wondering if deceased has been scrawled next to it by now. 

“Voltron is powerful. Perhaps the most powerful.” The demon says and Keith has to avert his eyes from its hands, the skin rippling backwards and forwards with the words, as if it’s speaking through its pores.

“But it requires a sacrifice,”

“Don’t you all?” He finds himself cutting in.

_ Paladin.  _ Red warns in the back of his head. 

“You all want something from us.” He responds. He’s not sure if he’s speaking more to the demon, or to Red. 

He knows he shouldn’t. Not with all she has done for him. All the support she has offered him.

“You demons have all asked for something from me here, gold, a truth, a relic from my world, a lock of my hair. And fine. I get it. I’m trespassing here, asking about your world, your ways. But when you come to my world? You ask for power. For freedom, for riches. And you don’t leave until you get it. Do you?” He continues. 

He knows he’s getting at Red now. That he should stop. He can feel her anger coiling inside his own heart. But he just can’t bring himself to. Not when Shiro is gone, and the only perpetrator he can find is The Gate and the demons who crawl their way out of it. 

“And when do you stop? What do you want?” He says, his voice breaking on the last word. 

“Do you want to ruin us? To taint those of us who connect with you?”

_ Keith. _ Red’s voice comes out softly, but the demon in front of him begins again.

“The sacrifice for Voltron is one far greater than what I, or any other demon, will likely ask of you. Voltron requires life. A large quantity. Only then will you wield its power.”

“And how do I find Voltron?” He asks, voice coming out sharp.

The demon’s head jerks to the side, looking above his shoulder then, as if its seen something.

“Tread further into our realm. You will find him.” The demons says. “And beware the one on your shoulder.”

He thanks the demon for its help, for its time, but before he can move forward, deeper into the realm Red is nudging him back towards The Gate. 

It begins gently, but he can feel the tension behind her nudges, so he turns back, towards home.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

His room is cold when he returns in the early hours of the morning. He hadn’t realised how much of it had been Shiro’s space until he was gone. Shiro had been the one to light the fire on a cold day. He had been the one to change the sheets, on both beds. He would even pick up Keith's discarded clothes from the floor.

Without Shiro the room is a mess. Everything is haphazard. There are piles of clothes on the floor where Keith has thrown them. Even Shiro’s things- his books, his notes- have fallen into disarray as Keith paged through them in his anguish, his desperation to find any shred of evidence to Shiro’s whereabouts. Any shred of Shiro.

Keith collapses onto the bed, his bones ache, his head aches, he can feel the frustration building in the pit of his stomach, mixed with something else, at the bottom of his stomach, leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

_ My Paladin, you must rest.  _ Red says in the back of his head.

And he can’t deal with this anymore. The constant nudging, the constant suggestion, the care for his well being that should be coming from Shiro. 

Not from Red.

He pulls the Grimoire from where it’s strapped to his thigh, almost throwing it onto the nightstand. The space it occupied left feeling lighter than usual.

_ You have spent far longer than anyone should on the other side. _ Red continues anyway.

“I don’t care.” He pushes out through gritted teeth. 

_ You will do damage to yourself if you continue. You are putting your body through unnecessary pain. _ She begins, but he doesn’t give her time to finish.

“I don’t care.” He repeats, louder this time.

_ You cannot save him like this _ . She says. 

And it’s like the clouds breaking under the weight of the rain, and he can’t stop himself anymore.

“I can’t leave him!” He almost shouts, “I don’t know where he is. I don’t know if he’s in pain. He needs me Red.”

_ I know. _ She says, hushing him.  _ But you are tired, upset. You are no use to him like this. _

“I don’t care.” He repeats again, his voice cracks on the last word this time.

Because he doesn’t. This, the ache, the constant travelling and entering The Gate is nothing compared to the pain of losing Shiro. To the possibility of never having him back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When he wakes the white mark on his ring has grown, like a bruise that takes a few days to appear. He spends a moment staring at it, turning it in the light. The white as pure and as bright as a priest’s robes. 

It’s far too large to hide.

He doesn’t spare a thought for its meaning, the level of corruption entering his own body. He doesn’t feel any different.

‘Perhaps it’s just reacting to the demon’s realm.’ He thinks as he pulls it off, pushing it under his mattress, hopefully not to be found.

But he can’t go to training without a ring, they’re part of the Paladin uniform, mandatory for all. 

Not wearing his would definitely raise questions. 

So he takes Shiro’s, pulling it onto his finger harshly. Thanking whatever God is up there that it is still as blank as the nights sky.

 

* * *

 

 

 

He’s placed back on watch a few days later, shorter shifts to start with. To “ease him back into it” Honerva had said.

He’s paired with James Griffin. Another upper class Apprentice, he’s taller than Keith, older too. But Keith has always managed to match him in classes.

He’d always been paired with Shiro for Gate watches, and Keith feels his absence acutely during the long hours spent with nothing more than the swirling pools of light inside The Gate to watch. 

Watching The Gate could either be the single most boring thing he had ever experienced, or the most stressful moments of his life. Recently it had been the former, and Keith could feel his frustration winding tighter and tighter without Shiro’s easy presence beside him.

“Keith, can you stand still for just  _ one _ second?” James asks during one of their shifts. It’s just the two of them today, on the early shift, no expected activity from The Gate.

Keith stills at his words. He’d been re-adjusting his Grimoire, tightening its straps as he slouched against the wall behind him. 

“What’s it to you?” He mumbles, leaning back into the wall. 

He can feel the annoyance radiating from James, positioned at the edge of the circle, his back straight like the perfect soldier.

James turns away from The Gate, eyes narrowing towards Keith.

“You’re distracting me, you’re not behaving as a Paladin should and, if anything were to happen tonight I’m not convinced that you would have my back.” He says, turning back towards The Gate as he finishes.

Keith narrows his eyes at James’ back.

It’s not that he hates James, but they’ve never been on friendly terms. He’s never really got on with any of the other Paladins in his and Shiro’s group. He’s never fit in, he’s always got by on Shiro’s relationships, on Shiro’s good word. And now that Shiro’s gone the glue holding him in place has also disappeared. He’s argued with James before. He’s argued with most of their class before. Threw a punch at James once. But Shiro had always been there to smooth things over.

He takes a breath before replying, imagining the anger dissipating with it.

“I’ll have your back.” He finally brings himself to say.

James scoffs, not even looking at him. And it takes everything Keith has not to throw himself at him, push him to the floor and finish the fight he’d started all those years ago.

But he doesn’t.

He takes another deep breath, remembering the words Shiro used to mutter to him when he got too wound up in class, when the whispers had become too loud, when a teacher had belittled him.

'Patience yields focus.'

He just needs to focus. 

The rest of their shift ticks away in silence. Keith doesn’t pull his back from the wall behind him, and James doesn’t glance his way again. Not until The Gate begins to ripple before their eyes.

Keith pulls himself up at the first shiver of The Gate, finding himself at James’ side as James shifts into a guarded position, his reaction just a few seconds slower.

“Reason first?” Keith mutters under his breath, pulling Red’s Grimoire into his hands.

“Yeah.” James says as The Gate is wrenched open, a human like figure pushing its way through to their realm.

“Stop, demon!” James calls as the demon breaks into their reality. But it pays him no mind, its eyes, bright white, the brightest thing in the room, and completely devoid of pupils finding Keith’s.

And he recognises it. 

The demon he gave a lock of his own hair to.

‘Did it follow me?’ shoots through his mind, before his body begins to move on auto pilot, pushing Red’s Grimoire open.

“What do you want?” He calls to it. Most demons don’t, can’t talk. But he knows that this one can.

It doesn’t answer him, just takes a step further into their world, towards Keith and James.

“To see.” It says when it is eye to eye with Keith. As far as it can go before breaking the circle. It’s mouth doesn’t move with the words this time either, and Keith tries not to look at the ripple of its skin as it talks this time.

He hears James’ intake of breath, half disgust, next to him before his voice rings out again, just as steady as before.

“To see what?” James asks, his own Grimoire gripped tightly in his hands.

Keith is hit by a sudden realisation. He can’t let this demon talk. He can’t let it give him away, he can’t let it recognise him.

“I’ll let you see through a Paladin’s eyes.” He says quickly. “I’ll let you see our world.” 

The demon jerks in response, its eyes finding Keith’s again. He feels James turn to face him too, but he’s already pulling at his spare Grimoire.

“Lend me your power.” He says quickly, so quickly his breath is becoming heavy, he opens the Grimoire, looking the demon in the eye. “And you’ll be able to see.” he finishes.

The demon lifts a finger, holding it over the Grimoire, a drop of thick black ichor dropping to the page.

Keith finds himself speaking the words as if on auto, not even realising until he reaches the last word of the binding agreement.

“…submit.” He says, breathless.

And before the demon disappears he swears he sees it grin.

Keith slams the Grimoire shut. He keeps his gaze focused on the book in his hands, not meeting James’ gaze.

It isn’t long after their watch that word of the binding gets back to Zarkon. News that Apprentice Paladin Kogane bound a highly corrupt demon, almost single handedly without a fight. 

He’s summoned to Zarkon’s offices later that day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hit me up on Tumblr](https://havanarr.tumblr.com/) if you want to ask any questions, talk about Sheith or just give me a follow.
> 
> Once again, why don't you check out Zen's amazing art.
> 
> [Before](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/176297012866/26072018-while-i-breathe-i-hope)
> 
> [A teaser for what's to come!](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/176297340966/26072018-while-i-breathe-i-hope)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very very un-beta'd.

“I know you were close to Shirogane.” Zarkon says. His eyes are trained on Keith, watching his every move from behind his desk.  


‘Close? Close doesn’t even begin to cover it.’ He thinks. He and shiro were inseparable, even now, he wasn’t ready to let anyone, not even Zarkon, separate them.   


But Keith doesn’t say that. Instead he asks a different question.  


“Did they put him to death?” He asks.   


Zarkon barely reacts, his eyes lock onto Keith's and his expression goes stony, the friendly smile he had plastered on his face earlier, the fake one that hadn’t reached his eyes, finally drops.  


“You said he was facing death charges.” Keith repeats. “Is he dead?” he asks, trying not to let his voice crack on the word. Trying not to let the image of Shiro, deathly pale, eyes unseeing, get to him. He’s seen it in his dreams. Too many times. They used to be of his father, face ashen, eyes hazy. But now that’s morphed into Shiro. Every time he closes his eyes. Every time he hears his name.  


He watches as Zarkon’s face settles into a steely gaze. He’s not giving Keith anything today.  


“I don’t know, Paladin. I will enquire for you, if you would really like to know.” He says. Keith breaks their gaze. Because he doesn’t want to know. Not really. Knowing would make it worse.

This is the first time, officially, that he has been called to Zarkon’s study. He knows that Shiro’s been called here before, multiple times. But that’s because he’s Shiro. The best since Zarkon himself, or so they say. Keith had always been a little too fiery for Zarkon’s taste, a little too unpredictable. Not like Shiro, Shiro followed orders, went above and beyond what was asked.

The office is neater than the last time Keith was here. The desk is clear, no towers of papers. But he’s sure that the files underneath the floorboard are still there. Waiting. 

“Paladin, please present your ring.” Zarkon says next. Keith’s head jerks up, meeting his gaze once again. There’s something in Zarkon’s eyes, they’re a little too focused. There’s a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. A real one this time, like a gambler who knows that he’s about to win his bet but doesn’t want to let on to the rest of the table.

‘Ring?’ His ring. Right. He’s wearing Shiro’s. He pulls it off, still a deep inky black, and passes it to Zarkon, hand outstretched, waiting.

His own sits in between the bed and it’s mattress, a bright, blinding white stripe snaking its way around it.

He watches as Zarkon inspects it. He shouldn't be able to tell that the ring is linked to Shiro. Not without bringing out the Black Grimoire, and Keith doesn’t know what happened to that. Maybe Zarkon confiscated it. Maybe it’s still with Shiro, wherever he is. The rings look exactly the same. He shouldn't have any reason to question it. He watches the grin on Zarkon’s face grow wider, pulling at his face in grotesque ways. 

“The last time I saw a Paladin make as much progress as you have,” Zarkon begins, moving his gaze back to Keith’s face. Keith tries to school it back into a relaxed expression, tries to look anywhere but at Zarkon’s eyes, or the ring. He can feel the hairs on his arms standing up when Zarkon looks at him. His hands feeling suddenly cold, naked without the ring. “The ring was white, corrupted.” Zarkon finishes, leaning across the desk to hand the ring back. Keith snatches it back, putting it back onto his finger as fast as possible. 

“That Paladin, was the previous High Guardian.” Zarkon adds. Keith meets his eyes then. He knows he’s meant to look shocked at this, or at least surprised. But instead he just searches Zarkon’s eyes for the lie. Alfor had been before his time, but he’d been hailed as the greatest High Guardian until his sudden death.

“He kept asking for power, making deals with demons, it blinded him until there was nothing of his soul left for God to take.” Zarkon finishes before standing.

“But you, Kogane,” He says as he makes his way around the desk and places a cold hand on Keith’s shoulder. “keep making progress like this and perhaps, one day, you’ll be High Guardian.” He says as he leads Keith to the door.

Keith nods once. He wants to turn, to scream in Zarkon’s face that that was Shiro’s dream, and he’s somewhere, without Keith, without anyone, and no one will believe him. But he can’t. He can’t lose his link to The Gate, to Shiro.

 

 

* * *

 

_ Perhaps you should spend more time in your realm, and less in ours. _ Red says to him later that night as he enters The Gate. 

“You were listening in on that chat with Zarkon then?” Is all he can bring himself to say. He’s been able to feel Red’s needling anxiety for the past few days as if it were his own. But he knows that it’s different, he can’t find the source of those feelings, he can just feel them as she does.

_ Keith, you’ve seen your ring. It’s becoming corrupted.  _ She says, there’s an edge to her voice, one that Keith doesn’t want to think too hard about.

“I’m fine.” He responds before he starts moving.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Over the weeks the demon realm has opened up to him, he knows how to navigate the terrain now, how to avoid the knife sharp leaves. He knows where to find demons, where to corner them for information. He stays in the realm longer, ignoring Red’s pushes to leave after a few hours. He travels further, goes deeper until the realm becomes hot, so hot he has to remove his shirt, his sweat sticking to him. The air around him becomes dense and it gets harder to breathe. But he continues.

He briefly wonders if this really is hell. A Priest had told him he was headed there once as a teen. Keith can’t remember if he was Catholic or not. He doesn’t really think it matters as much as the rest of the country seems to think.

Sometimes he thinks he sees things, this far down, where the air is hazy with the heat. Sometimes it’s Zarkon, in his sharp, tailored outfits, his grin so wide it splits his face. Mostly it’s Shiro. When it’s Shiro he runs, runs until his lungs hurt, until coughs are ripping out of his throat, only to find nothing. 

Today it’s Shiro. He’s lying on the floor, one hand outstretched towards Keith in the distance. The other- gone. Keith physically flinches when he sees it.

_ It’s a hallucination, Keith.  _ Red says in the back of his mind,  _ like every other time.  _ But he shakes his head, hard, tries to shake her out of his head, and then he’s running. Legs pushing against the sand at his feet, stumbling as it moves with him. He can feel the heat rising from the ground through his shoes and it only makes him run faster. Makes him breathe faster until the air burns it’s way down his lungs.

He trips, just before he reaches Shiro, knees crashing to the ground as hands reach out to stop himself from hitting the ground. He pulls them back immediately at the burn. His palms are a deep red and Shiro is gone.

He hits the ground beneath him, his hand curling into a fist. It hurts. And it burns. But he doesn’t care. Because he just wants to see Shiro. 

_ Keith, you need to leave this place.  _ Red says in the back of his mind.

“Shut  _ up _ Red.” He chokes out, his breaths coming faster, hiccuping, until there are tears falling from his eyes. He leans down into the ground, ignoring the heat and trying to ignore the sobs, the only thing running through his mind is Shiro’s name.

 

 

* * *

 

When he does take breakfast with the other Paladins he’s met with worried stares. He can feel Pidge’s eyes on him as he eats. He notices the way Hunk piles a plate for him high with food. The way Lance always pushes tea at him. A voice in the back of his head reminds him;  _ they’re worried.  _ He’s still not sure if it’s Red or not.

 

 

* * *

 

Shiro’s face continues to stare back at him in the mirror each night. Hes features look pulled, tense and tired, so tired. Sometimes he speaks, sometimes Keith can hear the words. Most of the time he just stares back, wishing he had the Black Grimoire, the power of mirrors. Wishing that he could just put his hand in, reach for Shiro and pull him back out. But he can’t. He can’t do anything.

 

 

* * *

 

The other Paladin’s begin to notice his changes too. Keith doesn’t really realise, hasn’t really thought about it, until Zarkon attends one of his training sessions.

His shirt is pristine, a bright white that would make Keith’s own look a dirty yellow. He’s in the middle of a mandatory practice, all Advanced level Paladins are in attendance.

Keith pays it no mind, turns back to the demon in front of him. 

He’s paired with James again, they’re facing down a demon, maller than most. Hunched over itself. Talons replace its hands. It’s grotesque.

But not difficult to bind.

He does it on autopilot, not even realising that he’s speaking until the final “submit” falls from his lips.

The demon submits without a fight. It’s eyes, as white as Zarkon’s shirt, meet his for a split second before it disappears. 

The clapping brings him back into the moment. And Keith’s head whips around to Zarkon, clapping. He watches, his eyes transfixed on the greedy look in Zarkon's eye as the other Paladin’s begin to join in, even James.

He still has the newly bound Grimoire in his hands, fastening his grip as Zarkon moves closer. Brings a hand onto his shoulder.

“Impressive, Kogane.” He says before taking the Grimoire. “Perhaps it is time you graduated.” He adds, giving Keith a pat before leaving the room.

Keith can feel the gazes, at least twenty pairs of eyes, on him as Zarkon leaves.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Keith doesn’t really know how he got to The Gate this time, his feet had just brought him there, his hands had opened Red’s Grimoire so that he could pass into the Gate undetected by the Paladin’s guarding it. 

Lance is one of them tonight. He doesn’t even flinch as Keith brushes past him. 

_ What would your friends think Keith?  _ Red asks when they’ve crossed safely.  _ What would they think of you risking your life, your soul, each night like this? _ She asks.

He doesn’t respond.

 

 

* * *

 

Lance shows no signs of having noticed him the next morning. But the conversation at breakfast stops, suddenly, as he approaches. Everyone’s faces changing from worry and suspicion to fake smiles.

He notices Pidge looking at his ring.

He notices Lance trying to grab at his hands, turn them over, like he’s playing it as some kind of game to annoy Keith.

He notices Hunk taking in the bags around his eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

It’s a week since he’s spoken to Red. Four days since she stopped speaking to him. But he can feel her, in the back of his mind, watching. Like he feels the eyes of the other Paladins on his back in the halls. Like how the guards used to watch him slip in and out of the market stalls, waiting for him to do something wrong. 

He ignores it. He’s had practice. 

She gets wound up as he faces down a demon, it’s the one that’s been luring him with Shiro’s image, he’s sure. 

It’s almost twice his height, its face a skull with elongated teeth, reaching past it’s chin. It’s eyes a devastating white. 

“Submit!” He says, his gaze never leaving the whites of the demons, it’s trapped within a circle, unable to move. Something he didn’t know Red could do, something he didn’t know he could do. He watches as the corners of the demons mouth rise, stretching into a cruel smile, it’s lips almost reaching its eyes. 

It had refused to tell him about Shiro. Refused to admit it knew where Shiro was. So he’d trapped it, without even opening Red’s Grimoire. 

The demon bows to him before disappearing. And Keith is sure that he hears it laugh. 

 

 

* * *

 

“He doesn’t look right.” Pidge finds herself saying for what feels like the thousandth time that week.

“Of course he doesn’t, he’s grieving, he’s overworking himself and he won’t let any of us talk to him because he’d rather be a loner.” Lance replies, pushing his plate to the side and leaning his chin on his hand.

“Lance.” Hunk chides next to them.

“No, it’s more than that.” Pidge insists, there are books in front of her. Books on health, the four humours, the black death, demon influence, corruption. “At first I thought he was sick,” she begins, turning one of the books around to show Hunk and Lance. “But he doesn’t have any symptoms, he hasn’t even been outside where he could catch anything.”

“So he’s tired.” Lance interjects. “Needs some rest, needs some help from his friends.”

“But his skin is duller.” Pidge continues. “And his eyes, when did you guys see him last?”

“Uhhhh, yesterday?” Hunk offers between bites. “Day before?”

“He was at training the day before yesterday.” Lance agrees, reaching over and grabbing one of the rolls on Hunk’s plate.

“How did he look?” She prods. She’s trying to convince herself that she’s not making this up, that she’s not projecting onto Keith.

“Tired.” Hunk says.

“Pale?” 

“Keith’s always pale.” Lance says and it takes everything Pidge has not to throw one of her books at him. ‘Probably wouldn’t be very fair to the book anyway.’ She thinks.

“Fine. Paler.” She corrects, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Yeah.” Hunk says. “He does now that you mention it. His eyes are bloodshot too.”

Pidge nods. “He looks like Matt did…” She says quietly, she can feel Lance and Hunk’s eyes landing on her, hears the cutlery hit the plate as Hunk moves a hand to cover her own, rubbing in large, comforting, circles. “And I’ve been doing some research…” she continues, pushing a book, the one at the bottom of her pile, to face Lance and Hunk.

Hunk hunches over to read the book, eyes squinting in focus, but Pidge notices Lance glancing up, eyes widening.

“Keith!” He calls, voice a little too loud, forcefully cheerful. Pidge takes the warning for what it is, pulling the books closed and onto the bench next to her. She lets Hunk grab the one under his nose and watches him do the same. He catches her eye as Keith takes his seat. Hunk is wearing the same worried look she’s sure has been clouding her own eyes all morning. ‘He’s read enough then.’ she thinks, relieved.

“How are you feeling today?” Lance asks, pushing a plate of breakfast towards Keith.

Keith looks tired, sick, corrupt. His hair is hanging lank over his eyes, like it hasn’t been washed in days. His skin is grey, and not just his face, his fingers, his wrists.

“Fine.” Keith mutters. His voice sounds tight, like he can’t quite force the words out.

She exchanges a glance with Lance, and then with Hunk while Keith picks at his food. It’s something he had started doing a few days after he had joined the paladins. He’d pretended to eat, pushed the food around a little so it looked different. Pidge had noticed, the few times she had sat near him. It was Shiro who had done something. Convinced him to eat, forced him sometimes. 

It’s so easy for her to remember Shiro, like he isn’t really gone. He’s younger in this memory, his hair darker than Pidge is used to, his face rounder. Keith is younger too, his hair a little longer, a little more untamed. She remembers Shiro leaning protectively over Keith, talking to him for all of dinner while Keith picked at his food. After a few days he had started to eat, a little more each day. She’d asked Shiro about it once. After her and Keith became friends.

“He’s not used to having so much.” Shiro had said with a soft smile. “Not used to being around so many people either.” He had added, Pidge had seen it then. The affection in Shiro’s eyes as he’d spoken about Keith. The admiration in Keith’s eyes for Shiro had been unmistakable, his eyes lit up whenever he looked at Shiro. He looked at Shiro like he was the only one in the room, like he was God himself. But the way Shiro looked at Keith was different, softer, his eyes crinkling at the edges a little.

And then it becomes clear to Pidge. Even if he’s gone, Shiro will never forgive them for letting Keith work himself to ruin.

 

 

* * *

 

Red finally speaks to him again after another trip to The Gate.

_ You slept in your uniform, again.  _ She says cautiously, trying to ease them back into the conversation as Keith pulls himself up from the bed and begins to change. He picks up a cleaner shirt off the floor, pulling the other off in a swift movement and ignoring Red.

_ You used a power unknown to me last night. _ She continues. _ You need time away from the demon realm Keith. _ She says slowly and Keith can feel the irk begin in his chest, pulling itself up into his lungs, past his vocal chords.

_ It’s been months Keith. You need to accept that he is gone- _

“Shut up, Red” the words tear themselves from the pit in his stomach, getting louder and louder, “Shut up SHUT UP.” He shouts, turning to her Grimoire. “For once can’t you shut your mouth Red!?” He yells, he wishes, not for the first time, that Red had a physical form. Something that he could push, something he could separate himself from. She has the Grimoire, but if he removes it from his room he’ll have to give a reason. And he’ll need a reason to take her back every night to cross The Gate. He picks it up anyway, opening it, as if he can get a better look at her that way.

“The longer Shiro stays there, in that realm, the more likely he’ll become corrupted, you said that didn’t you?” He asks. 

He can almost hear the steadying breath before Red speaks into his ear again.

_ You are already falling, my Paladin. _

He lets out a sharp laugh at that. 

_ He is lost Keith. Neither of us know where, but you cannot keep losing yourself on the other side. _ She continues, unrelenting, going round and round in his head.

“God, do you ever shut up?” He asks, his voice raising to try to drown her out.

_ You need to stop this Keith. Stop looking, stop tearing yourself apart.  _

“What do you know Red? You’re just like the rest of them. Evil.” He says, “You know, don’t you? You know where he is, how can you not? You’re one of them.”

_ Keith. _ She reprimands, her voice falling harshly in his mind.

“Why can’t you just  _ help _ me.” He continues. “Please, Red” He adds, his voice cracking in all the wrong places.

_ Keith you know I cant- _

She barely finishes the words before the thud. 

Keith barely realises what he’s done by the time the Grimoire has left his hands, hitting the floor with enough force to cut off Red’s words. It lands with a crash, pages falling open to the drop of Red’s ichor, as black as that of all the other demons he’s bound.

The room, his head, falls silent with the crash. He doesn’t know if throwing the Grimoire had actually hurt her, or if it had offended her. He doesn’t care either. He just closes his eyes, appreciating the calm for a moment.

“You’re the same as the rest of them.” He says into the calm.

“What do you suggest I do Red? Leave him to die? To rot over there? He would never have done that for me.”

She doesn’t answer him.

 

 

* * *

 

Pidge, Lance and Hunk keep as close an eye on Keith as they can. Hunk tries to encourage him to eat at breakfast and dinner. He tries to imitate Shiro’s method, distracting him, making him forget that he’s being watched.

It doesn’t work.

He eats. But it’s not enough. And every day he looks thinner. His cheeks look sunken, his eyes gaunt. But no matter what he tries Keith just won’t listen.

Pidge throws herself into research. Lance and Hunk finding her in the library late into the night.

“Pidge, you have to sleep.” Lance says, shaking her shoulder a little. “Or, at least, I dunno, move? You’re stiff.” Pidge shakes her shoulders a little, pushing him off

“I have a theory.” She says through a yawn and Lance lets his hand drop to his side.

It’s been days since they decided to do something, decided that Keith needed help. ‘Days lost’ Pidge can’t help thinking.

It’s been two months since Shiro disappeared, and they didn’t do anything for him. Didn’t listen to Keith. She’s not going to let Keith disappear on them too.

Hunk and Lance take a seat at her table, ready, like the good Paladin’s they are.

“The Gate has this almost, magnetic quality, right?” She says, looking between their faces. “Like, once you start to look at it it’s hard to look away?”

“Yeah.” Lance says, “sometimes it’s like it’s calling to me.” He adds, quieter. Pidge nods along.

“It’s addictive.” She whispers. 

“Addictive?” Hunk asks. “Like alcohol?”

“Yeah.” Pidge says, pulling a few papers out from in-between the pages of her book. “I found these reports, on Alfor.” She says, turning the pages so that Lance and Hunk can see them. They’re both from well educated families, unlike Keith, so she knows that they’ll be able to decipher them.

“Pidge.” Hunk says, his tone dark. “Where did you get these?”

“These can’t be available to just anyone.” Lance adds, his tone hushed.

“Alfor was the last High Guardian of The Gate.” Pidge begins. “He disappeared. But according to this, before his disappearance he spent longer and longer periods at The Gate, some of the writers in here speculate that he even crossed The Gate.”

“But you can’t cross The Gate” Lance says, incredulous. “Are you saying Keith is crossing The Gate?” He asks, tone rising.

Pidge shushes him, “Jesus, Lance, do you want everyone to overhear us?” She whispers.

“He can’t be.” Hunk says, “It’s always guarded by a team of Paladins.”

“Right.” Pidge says. “But according to this, Alfor became addicted to The Gate. There's a theory,” She pulls the document back towards her, thumbing through until she finds what she’s looking for. “By this guy, Blaytz, that The Gate is addictive, and that Alfor became so addicted, so enthralled, that he gave himself to The Gate.”

Lance and Hunk both share looks of dismay. Pidge doesn’t know if it’s at the thought of Keith becoming addicted or at the bizarre theory she’s trying to present to them.

“Guardian Alfor is described the exact same way Keith is acting.” She continues, pointing at the document for support. “Grey pallor to skin, sunken eyes, lack of appetite.”

“How do you know that it’s not grief?” Hunk asks quietly and Pidge levels him with her own gaze.

“Matt looked the same.” She says. “Before he tried to throw himself into The Gate.”

The library had been empty when Lance and Hunk had joined her, eerily silent, but now, somehow it just feels quieter. Like her words had punched the breath out of Lance and Hunk.

“So that’s what he did.” Hunk says, his tone solemn.

Pidge nods, her throat suddenly choked up. She hasn’t seen Matt since. Locked away in their country home. ‘Where he’s safe’ her mother had said.

“Shit.” Lance exhales.

They’d been in their first year of training when it had happened. Pidge had barely known Lance. He had been on her periphery, a Friend of Hunk who was also a part of the research branch of Paladins. It had been before Keith had joined them. Before he’d soared in and found his way to the top, born of pure talent, finding himself at Shiro’s right hand. Pidge’s father had gone missing. And Matt had torn himself apart trying to find him. Pidge barely remembers it, must have wiped it from her memory. But they all remember Matt disappearing one day. The rumours that had spread, that he’d tried to take control of The Gate for himself, that he’d stolen a Grimoire under Zarkon’s protection. She doesn’t have to guess which Grimoire it was anymore.

“So you think Keith is going to try to cross The Gate?” Hunk asks quietly.

“That, or he already has.” Pidge answers. “Alfor held The Red Grimoire.” She adds. “If anyone knew how to cross The Gate it will be Red.”

“Shit.” Hunk echos this time. “We have to get it away from him.”   
  


 

* * *

 

 

Keith stares at the mirror warily, letting his eyes go out of focus, Until the mirror is just a blur. Maybe this time things will be different. It’s been days since he lashed out at Red, since he threw her Grimoire. He misses her, a little. 

The other side of The Gate had been gruelling. Shiro’s voice seems to call to him now, here in his room, in the hallways. Tonight-this morning- it had followed him to the other side of The Gate, calling to him. He’d heard Shiro’s voice from all different directions, shouted himself hoarse trying to follow it. Tread new paths into the ground trying to chase it.

Shiro is looking back at him from inside the mirror. Still human. Still alive, somewhere. Like always, looking for something in the dark. His mouth opening and closing. His eyes are rimmed red. It takes Keith a moment to notice his eyes. Today Shiro’s eyes seem to meet his. He lets their eyes lock for a moment. Taking in the steely grey of Shiro. ‘It must be a trick of the light’ he decides or maybe his own mind playing tricks on him, ‘it wouldn’t be the first time tonight.’ 

A part of him, a small part, wishes that he could talk to Red about it. But he pushes it away, back down. He doesn’t want to talk to Red. Not until she apologises. Not until she admits what she knows. Keith doesn’t even bother speaking to Shiro tonight, he’s too tired, his eyes drooping shut every few seconds. He pulls a hand through his hair. It’s thick with grease and something else, something dusty, until he meets something.

Something parting the thick strands he’s used to. Something light, and soft. 

Something that shouldn’t be there.

He grabs at it, gingerly pulling it from where it had become tangled in his hair. He knows before he looks, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he knows. He pulls it down to his face, a white feather. He freezes at the sight anyway, his blood running cold.

He hasn’t left the Paladin quarters for days, hasn’t been outside in well over a month. He’s seen feathers embed themselves in hair before, on the other side of The Gate. On the heads of the demons he’s bound.

He looks back to the mirror.

Shiro is gone, leaving a pale boy with pitch black hair and bloodshot eyes.

He’s paler than he remembers, the whites of his eyes are bright. He drops the feather in his haste, pulling at his lips to reveal the blackening of his gums. 

His arms fall to his sides. It takes everything to stay on his feet as he feels the panic rise inside him. It’s entirely his own, he’s sure. Because the thing he feels from Red isn’t panic, or surprise. It’s remorse, mingled with regret, and shame. His breaths begin to hasten, until his chest is pushing and pulling the air in and out, in and out and he stumbles.

_ Keith. _ Red says, her voice steady. He can hear the worry, the regret. But his panic overwhelms him, roaring in his ears. He can make out the patterns on the floorboards, they look like they’re moving. Just like everything else around him. Moving, the pieces sliding into place.

“You-you knew.” He says aloud. Red doesn’t answer.

He runs his hands through his hair again, pulling harshly, not caring if it hurts, if they catch on the knots. He rakes his hands over his scalp, over and over. 

Until he finds it. 

Another feather. Tucked behind his ear. He pulls it away slowly, trying to keep his hands steady, but the adrenaline is pumping through his veins now and his hands are unable to control it. They’re shaking.

The moment he catches sight of the feather he drops it, like it’s burning him, and then he leans forward, hands finding their way to his hairline, where a line of tiny white feathers are growing in. 

“R-Red?” he asks. It doesn’t come out like he’d expected. Voice high, shaking. Like a child. He can’t tear his eyes away from the mirror, his eyes are bloodshot, the circles under them angry and dark.

It pulls at something in his mind. His father. Eyes growing dull, unseeing. And it’s like the two things are linked, somehow. He doesn’t know. But he needs her to answer. Just like he needed his dad to answer.

“Red.” He tries again. The word choking on it’s way out. “Red, what’s happening-”

But he can’t finish, cuts himself off at a knock at the door, freezing. He catches the eye of the boy in the mirror, the one who he barely recognises. And for an instant, he swears he sees Shiro, eyes glued to his own.

The knocking continues, it’s getting harsher now. He recognises the voice that accompanies it as Hunks.

“Keith, buddy, it’s us, just checking up on you.” He’s saying. His voice sounds loud, and strained. Shiro is gone when Keith looks back to the mirror.

“O-One sec.” He says, his voice coming out higher than he’d hoped, kicking the feathers until they end up under Shiro’s bed.

He clears his throat before opening the door, hoping his voice will go back to being his voice and not that of a lost child. Pidge, Lance and Hunk are on the other side. They look anxious, and he’s not sure how he can turn them away, not today.

“Can we come in?” Hunk asks tentatively, but Lance is already pushing past him.

‘No’ he wants to say. ‘Go away.’ ‘Leave me alone’ ‘I’m broken, corrupt, you’ll catch it too’ he wants to yell. But before he knows it Hunk is pushing the door closed behind him, sealing the four of them in.

Keith feels like the walls are going to close in on him, feels like the temperature is rising, his breaths begin to get quicker, his eyes darting to the floor, scanning for evidence. For feathers.

“Keith, can we see your ring?” Lance asks slowly, and Keith flinches.

‘You didn’t expect it, that’s all, there’s nothing to hide.’ He tells himself before pulling the ring off his fingers and presenting it to Lance.

It’s Shiro’s. Still a deep black. 

“Keith, we’re worried about you.” Hunk says, he’s taken a seat on Shiro’s bed, looking up at Keith, while Pidge stands to Lance’s side.

“I’m fine.” He replies, automatic at this point.

“You’re not.” Hunk says. “What you’ve lost Keith…” Keith feels himself tense. ‘Do they know?’ do they know what he and Shiro are? That they’re what husband and wife are to one another? 

“No one would be fine.” Hunk says. And then Keith sees it, a white feather, just a few inches away from Hunk’s foot. He tries not to fixate on it, not to look at it, not to draw attention.

“I said I’m fine.” He continues.

“Keith, we’re all worried about Shiro.” Hunk says.

And Keith feels like something inside him snaps. “Worried?” He asks, turning to look at Lance and Pidge too. “You haven’t done anything, you didn’t stand up to Zarkon with me.”

“Keith…” Lance begins with a hand on his shoulder, but Keith pushes it off. “If you were worried about him you’d be looking, like I am.” He says, the words coming out like fire.

“Where have you been looking?” Pidge asks, her words dousing him in an instant, her eyes piercing into his own like ice.

“Wh-where…” He stumbles. “Outside.” He says, not meeting her gaze.

“You haven’t left the Paladin quarters since Shiro went missing.” Pidge says, her tone even.

Keith begins to back away from her, towards the door.  _ They know. _ Says Red in the back of his head. It’s the first useful thing she’s said to him in days.

“We’re all worried about Shiro too,” Pidge echos Hunk. “But I’ve lost family to The Gate before, Keith, I’m not about to lose you too.” Pidge says, and then Keith realises what she has in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed her pick it up, hadn’t noticed her pick Red up.

Hunk stands up too, he and Lance flanking Keith. But He lunges, straight for Pidge, for Red.

He doesn’t get very far, strong hands grab his arms pulling him back. “Pidge! No, give her back!” He shouts, screams. He begins to claw at the arms holding him, Pidge’s eyes are wet as she backs away.

“I can’t lose you too Keith.” She says as she reaches the door. Keith gives another push, trying to use his strength to topple Lance, but he’s lost weight, he’s not even a match for Lance anymore. Hunk uses it to his advantage, pushing Keith back onto Shiro’s bed before the two of them bolt from the room.

The click of the door lock is unmistakable but it doesn’t stop Keith from throwing himself at the door, screaming at it, punching it until his knuckles are red and swollen.

 

 

* * *

 

Later that night he looks to the mirror again. Shiro is there, like always. Shouting, like always. Keith leans in, staring into Shiro’s deep grey eyes. He’d always thought they were beautiful, ever since they were young. Strong like steel, like the sword the guards use to protect the walls of the city, he had thought.

Shiro’s mouth is opening and closing, and Keith thinks he can hear his voice. Why today of all days he doesn’t know. But it’s unmistakably Shiro.

“Please, stop.” He’s saying.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and have some of Zen's A-MAZE-ING art!
> 
>  
> 
> [Before](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/176297012866/26072018-while-i-breathe-i-hope)
> 
> [A teaser for what's to come!](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/176297340966/26072018-while-i-breathe-i-hope)


End file.
